


Futatabi

by Swizzle



Category: Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions, Pokemon ORAS, Pokemon Omega Ruby Alpha Sapphire
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Illustrations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swizzle/pseuds/Swizzle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people say that everyone deserves the opportunity to have a second chance. Tabitha struggles to believe he has such an opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> This was a collaboration between myself and my best friend [Marina K. (sylladexter)](http://sylladexter.tumblr.com). ORAS was such a great addition to the Pokemon franchise and in the aftermath of X and Y, we were thrilled to see some wonderful storytelling. The characters really grew on us, especially those of Team Magma and Team Aqua. We were captivated by Tabitha in particular.
> 
> There are glimpses of backstory to be found in the Magma and Aqua bases and in conversations during the gameplay, but we were curious to know more. That’s when we started asking ourselves “what ifs” and the end result is this story.
> 
> This work will be published **every Tuesday and Friday** until all 10 chapters have been uploaded. You will be able to track updates on **tumblr (track tag: futatabi)** and here on **Archive of Our Own (AO3) under the username[Swizzle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Swizzle)**. It will also be posted on Fanfiction.net on [SWIZTASTIC](https://www.fanfiction.net/~swiztastic), however this repost will NOT have any images because FF.net is dumb that way (that’s why I prefer AO3).
> 
> Full versions of the illustrations will be available in this album: [here](https://imgur.com/a/FpvuZ)
> 
> We hope that you will enjoy our story as much as we have enjoyed bringing it to life.
> 
> Writing: [bakaunagi](http://bakaunagi.tumblr.com)  
> Illustration: [sylladexter](http://sylladexter.tumblr.com)

  
ふたたび [ 再び ]  
Origin: Japanese

(adv.): again; once more; a second time. ****  
  
  
***

 

 

9x8ft2.

 

These were the dimensions of Tabitha’s cramped apartment on the edge of Rustboro City. Space was tight, but he made the best of it because this was all he was able to afford.  
  


At least it was a slight upgrade from his dormitory room back at university. At least he’d landed himself a coveted internship at the Devon Corporation, which led to a job waiting for him after graduation. Perhaps he would have liked his entry-level position to pay a bit more than an entry-level salary, but at the very least, he was able to buy necessities, even if it meant a diet of junky convenience store food.  
  


Despite the fact that he had been living paycheck to paycheck for the past year, the bright, inquisitive, fiery passion of his 22-year-old mind had yet to be extinguished.  
  


Tabitha fumbled for his keys in the pocket of his suit and unlocked his apartment door, only to be greeted by his roommate the instant he stepped inside the darkness of his room.

 

 

There, rubbing against his legs, was his beloved Pokemon. Surely she was upset that he had not come home sooner, but he had stayed late at the office again working with his research team. In recent weeks, this had become the norm, leaving Tabitha little time to straighten his place up. The stacks of boxes, clothes, and books piled high gave Skitty entertainment while her caretaker was away, but the mess disturbed Tabitha, a self-proclaimed neat freak.  
  


“Ah, hello Skitty.”  
  


But Skitty was insistent—when her owner did not kneel to scratch behind her ears, she followed him to his desk, pawing at his briefcase and leaping onto his chair to swat at the plastic bag in his hand.  
  


“I know, I know. I am well-aware that I am particularly late today…” Tabitha scolded himself, lifting Skitty from her perch on his desk just as she began to stick her head into the bag’s contents. “I promise I’ll unwrap everything as soon as I get out of my work outfit.” Tabitha rummaged inside the desk for a matchbox and lit a droopy candle on the cluttered shelf for a light source. The wick was nearly gone—he’d have to remember to buy a replacement tomorrow and, as inconvenient as that was, it was still cheaper than paying for the lights. He needed electricity to charge his various gadgets, electricity for the space heater, electricity for hot water…so, logically, he felt the overhead lamps could be cut from the bill with the least consequence.  
  


He gingerly set Skitty down onto the bed and began to undress, unbuttoning his suit, then his crisp white undershirt, dropping the latter into his laundry sack while the former was neatly folded onto a hanger and returned to the safety of his barren closet, exchanged for a comfy turtleneck sweater.  
  


When he glanced back to the bed, Skitty was nowhere to be found. Instead, a suspicious lump was moving around inside the legs of his dress pants draped across his sheets.  
  


Tabitha sighed, a small smile snaking its way across his face. He’d have to brush off all of the strands of hair she left behind (for red was quite noticeable on black) but he’d do that in the morning anyway. As he always did. He would not allow even a single mote of dust on his suit—he had sacrificed a month’s worth of scholarship funds to buy it years ago, eating nothing but cup noodles those four miserable weeks, but it had been his one-way ticket to the working world.  
  


A deep growl from his stomach nagged him to retrieve his pajama pants from the dresser. It was that time of year again; the crisp, cool weather of fall was beginning to transition into the bitter cold of winter, making it the perfect season to wear his favorite fleece pajama bottoms. Even if the cartoonish Torkoals were a tad juvenile in Tabitha’s opinion, the fact that their fabric had pilled and their elastic ran thin were a testament to their enduring comfort.  
  


Now that he had slipped into more casual clothing, it was time for dinner. Tabitha didn’t even need to call out to Skitty—the rustling of the plastic bag summoned her out of the nest she had made in his nice pants. She came bounding up into his lap as he sat at his desk, pulling out a bento box stuffed with cold dumplings.  
  


While he enjoyed immersing himself in the science of his work, there was something special about these twenty or so minutes spent each evening, back turned away from the briefcase on his bed, sitting down to eat by candlelight in the company of the one being who loved him unconditionally.

 

 

He turned to watch Skitty nibble on her dumpling. Though he had fallen on hard times as of late, Skitty was right there alongside him and his companion’s playful smile told Tabitha that everything was going to be all right.  
  


He couldn’t fathom a life without her.  
  


Just as he dipped the dumpling into what remained of the soy sauce canister, a high-pitched chiptune medley filled the room, spooking Skitty into hiding.  
  


Puzzled, Tabitha rose from his seat to grab the PokeNav vibrating in his discarded pants pocket. One quick glance at the caller ID told him all he needed to know.  
  


“Good evening, Mother. No no, no need to apologize—I’ve always got time for you. I’ve just finished dinner.” He checked his watch, grimacing at the glowing numbers that read 11:36 PM. “Yes, I realize it’s not the ideal time, but that’s the life of a salaryman for you.”  
  


As he spoke, Tabitha moved to cradle the Nav with his shoulder while he cleaned up the empty bento box and transferred the briefcase to his desk-turned-workstation.  
  


“Checking up on me? I’m doing well, I would say.”  
  


Lying normally came so easy to him, but the only way he could ever justify hiding the truth from his parents like this was if it was for their own good. They weren’t exactly in the best of financial situations either, yet his mother insisted on sending him packages of food or clothes from time to time at her expense. Tabitha never wanted them to spend money he knew they didn’t have on him, and if they were even the slightest bit aware of the life he was living…  
  


“I’m working with a research team right now on some…projects. Technological development. I’m feeling like we’re onto something….of course I’m staying warm! I’m wearing that sweater—you know, the one you knit for me? Ahyahya…”  
  


Gradually, a variety of print-outs, diagrams, charts, and blueprints began to litter the surface of his desk. He removed a sleek black laptop from the depths of its case and powered it on, flooding the room with bright blue light.      
        

“What have you and Father been up to lately?...Ah, yes, it’s about that time of year, isn’t it? Well, if people are giving him grief about it, construction is a necessary business…potholes don’t care if it’s the holidays…”  
  


Minutes ticked by and the conversation continued while Tabitha worked. Skitty had long since fallen asleep underneath his chair, leaving him without distractions. Eventually, his mother passed the Nav on to his father, who teased out that hearty chuckle of his with an entertaining story of a Shroomish that kept leaving its footprints in the wet cement he’d been pouring.  
  


After nearly an hour, Tabitha completed his documents and set the Pokenav down on his desk as he tidied up his space, returning the papers to his briefcase for the morning.  
  


Suddenly, his mother’s frail voice came on over the speakerphone.  
  


“Tabi, when are you coming home?”  
  


Tabitha froze, his heart caught in his throat. A silence settled on the room as his mind raced, searching for a response.  
  


“Ah…”  
  


His fingers flew across the keyboard, entering the web address to his online bank account. The numbers on the screen, mocking him in a cheery blue typeface, stared back at him.

 

 

“One of these days, Mother.” he replied matter-of-factly, shutting his laptop.  
  
No response.  
  
Feeling the answer insufficient, he repeated himself and blew out the candle, throwing the apartment into darkness.  
  


 

“One of these days.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

5:00 AM.  
  


The alarm went off.  
  


Tabitha shifted in the quilts with a grunt, groping for the PokeNav sitting on his nightstand. His movements roused Skitty, who had buried herself underneath the sheets sometime during the night to keep warm beside him.  
  


Using the light from the Nav’s screen to guide him, Tabitha rolled out of bed and over to the mini fridge to fetch some leftover rice for breakfast. Whatever he didn’t finish he packed neatly away into his lunchbox along with some shrimp crackers and cold sushi.  
  


5:15 AM.  
  


He dragged himself into the bathroom to brush his teeth and climb into the tight shower stall. The water was just warm enough to keep him from getting goosebumps.  
  


5:30 AM.  
  


Skitty traded spaces when Tabitha crawled out of the shower to lick the leftover droplets of water from the tile floor while her master dressed. He stood at the mirror with a lint brush, wiping every strand of her evidence away, then focused so intensely on his appearance to make sure that not a single hair on his head was out of place.  


He approached his desk to retrieve his briefcase, looking out the window over the treetops of Petalburg Woods to the great limestone building in the distance that was his destination.  
  


The sun had yet to rise—it would not today. The skies were filled with ashen clouds.  
  


He was out the door by 5:45.

 

 

 

 

 

It was raining.  
  


Tabitha walked the dirt path to the train station, dressed in his black suit, holding his black briefcase in one hand and his black umbrella in the other. One by one, more people began to join him on his journey and the closer he came to the station, the more herd-like they became.  
  


Black suits. Black skirts. A canopy of black umbrellas.  
  


All collectively headed for the same train bound for the same fate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

6:07 AM.  
  


They reached the station’s entrance and, as if in unison, scanned their passes at the turnstiles. An organized human flood.  
  


Tabitha broke off from the crowd to wander over to the vending machine on the platform, fishing in his wallet for a few spare coins. The usual: a warm can of cheap, watered-down milk coffee. He recalled it tasting better all those sleepless nights in college, but it still did its job of waking him up.  
  


He sipped it carefully as he waited for the train to arrive. No matter how many thousands of hot beverages he had downed in his lifetime, he could never get used to the sting on his lips. As a kid, his mother had compared his sensitivity to the cautious way Skitty lapped up milk.  
  


The previous night’s conversation crept into his mind again. Tabitha’s parents had asked him that same question ever since he left home, asking him when he would return. His response may have used different words, but the answer was always the same.  
  


“Someday.”   
“Eventually.”   
“One of these days.”  
  


But home was in Lavaridge. Too far. Too expensive.  
  


Just as he finished his last few sips of coffee, the train bound for Rustboro pulled up to the tracks. Tabitha could see through the windows that the car before him was packed to the brim with fellow commuters. 

  
Rush hour.  
  


Tabitha and the other businesspeople around him formed a single file line on both sides of the door as it whirred open. A few seconds ticked by, yet nobody stepped off the train. Nobody ever did, yet nobody ever questioned the courtesy to wait just in case either.  
  


The grace period over, the lines melded together and squeezed inside the train. Tabitha was pushed into the middle of the sea of people, a few of whom shot him glares for taking up more than an “acceptable” amount of space. He had learned to ignore them.  
  


With a squeal, the rickety train pushed itself onward, leaving an unfortunate office lady who had arrived a few precious seconds too late behind in the dust.  
  


 

 

Everyone stood shoulder to shoulder in silence. Most of the people here were going to Rustboro for work, but Tabitha could see a few schoolchildren peppered in among the crowd, their colorful uniforms popping out among the ocean of black suits.  
  


There were also Pokemon. Most of them were tucked away in Pokeballs inside purses or clipped onto belts, but it was not uncommon to find smaller Pokemon out in the open. One woman who had been lucky enough to find a seat fed her Zigzagoon berries in her lap. A Wingull and a Swablu sat perched among briefcases on the luggage racks. A small boy buried among the crowd carried a Shroomish in his arms.  
  


Tabitha wished he could bring Skitty to work, but she hated being cooped up in her Pokeball. There was no way his boss would allow him to bring her if she wasn’t—she was too mischievous.

 

 

 

 

 

By the time the train arrived at Rustboro Station, Tabitha glanced at his watch with a smirk of satisfaction.  
  


6:51 AM. Right on schedule. Just the way he liked it.  
  


The car doors opened like floodgates, releasing its dozens and dozens of occupants and a visible cloud of sticky heat and humidity that had built up inside. Tabitha was carried along by the crowd all the way to the exit, high-heels stepping on his shoes and elbows poking at his ribs.  
  


In the blur of movement, he caught sight of a construction worker and his Machoke in the middle of remodeling a section of the station. These people and their Pokemon toiled at all hours of the day in an effort to rip the old stones from their foundations, replacing them with steel and concrete.  
  


The rise of the Devon Corporation had brought many people flocking to the area, transforming Rustboro from a town into a full-fledged city. Its old infrastructure had barely been able to keep up with the demand—rent around the area was at an all-time high (as Tabitha was well-aware) and in an effort to modernize, construction had become a common sight, much to the chagrin of the public.

  
And with the surge of people came the crime.

 

A group of maintenance men and their Marills clustered by the restrooms, trying to wash colorful graffiti off of the station walls. Their work was futile—the next morning, they would always discover more had sprung up during the night.  
  


It was evidence that Team Aqua and Team Magma had their eyes set upon the city too. Their presence could be felt in the marks they left behind and in the reports on television, even in their apparent absence.  
  


Of course, that’s what they _wanted_ the citizens of Rustboro to think. No grunt, not even one who had sworn allegiance to Aqua, was stupid enough to run around in the light of day in their uniform. For all Tabitha knew, a suited stranger in the crowd could very well be a gang member.  
  


Finally, he was shoved through the turnstile and into the open. Some children he recognized from the ride ran past him into the rain, laughing and jumping into puddles that had begun to pool on the tiled stone on their way to the Pokemon Trainer’s School. The rest of Rustboro’s workforce spilled out into the streets and scattered, disappearing into convenience stores and office buildings.  
  
But Tabitha did not follow them. Instead, he opened his umbrella and wandered to stand beside the station’s bronze sculpture of a Lileep, as he did promptly at 7 AM, five days a week.  
  


Waiting for her.  
  


She had to come a long, long way from Slateport on the train. Not even he knew how many hours that took each morning or why she chose to live so far away from the office, but she always managed to come to work in a timely manner and he never waited long.

 

 

“Hey Tabs!”  
  


Tabitha whirled around to look back toward the mouth of the station, a warm smile tugging at his cheeks as he spotted her enthusiastic waving. It was the only thing that could distinguish her from the other black-suited women in the crowd.  


“Good morning, Shelly.”  
  


The woman whipped out her umbrella and dashed over to him with the vigor of the schoolchildren who had passed by not so long ago. Her wild black hair was tame during work hours, pulled into the standard bun, but she had so much of it that the excess fell over and hid some of her face. Still, she managed to keep it out of at least one of her eyes.  
  


Those blue, sapphire eyes.  
  


The goggles atop her head had fogged over from the rain—Tabitha knew they would be a hassle to clean, but he knew that Shelly wouldn’t let that bother her because she hardly let _anything_ bother her.  
  
  
He didn’t like to admit it, but he envied the young woman. How could she be so carefree? He could keep asking himself that question, but he already knew the answer.  
  


She was a few years older than him and had been with Devon longer. She had earned herself a position higher than his, one that allowed her to be more financially stable. Logical, but that didn’t make him any less jealous.  
  


Tabitha had met her as an intern, back when she had been sitting in his current seat. He remembered her willingness to help him learn the ins and outs of the company and her dynamic presence in an otherwise cookie-cutter staff. Perhaps it was her tenacity that had so strongly drawn him to her, for he had felt the same way when he first walked through Devon’s doors.  
  


The two of them had become good friends. Best friends, even. “BFF”s, as she liked to point out. Despite the fact that she had climbed up the corporate ladder, she was still Tabitha’s dear friend and that alone gave him hope that he had a shot at being promoted someday. Hopefully soon.  
  


“I gotta tell ya, Tabs. Somethin’ awfully funny happened on the train today.”  
  


Shelly was always full of stories. It had become routine for her to regal him with some outlandish happening from her life as they walked to the office—whether or not she embellished any of it, Tabitha wasn’t sure, but they were entertaining and she had never told the same one twice.  
  


“Do tell.”  
  


“Well, in the car next to me, a little girl brought her Beautifly onboard. When the doors shut, it freaked out and shed sleep powder everywhere, knocking the whole car out!”  
  


She was so animated too. As she described each detail, she waved her arms about in a flurry of gestures, acting out the scenes. He was certain she stuck out like a sore thumb among all the hurried souls, but he knew that Shelly wouldn’t let that bother her because she hardly let _anything_ bother her.  
  


But today’s tale certainly bothered _him_ , if his stone-cold expression was anything to go by. “Shelly, that’s not funny at all, that’s quite serious!”  
  


Shelly flashed him a toothy grin, throwing an arm over his shoulder. She could feel him tense even underneath all the layers of his suit. “No no, they woke ‘em all up! I’m just glad it wasn’t me, y’know? The bossman’d kill me if I was late.”   
  
  
_Of course he would._ Tabitha thought. _He’d kill you if you stapled your paper the wrong way._  
  


“I don’t understand you sometimes, Tabs! Nobody got hurt or anything. Lighten up a bit, okay buddy?” Noticing that her friend’s frown remained, she prodded at his cheek until he could ignore it no more and he bopped her lightly on the head with his umbrella, his frown replaced by a playful smirk.

 

 

 

 

 

7:28 AM.  
  


The Devon Corporation headquarters loomed before them like the pillar of a great castle overlooking its kingdom. This was not such an exaggeration; on a sunny day, the skyscraper would cast a shadow over a portion of the very city it had been responsible for creating.  
  


Tabitha and Shelly pushed through the great glass doors and handed their umbrellas to the guard, exchanging greetings with the young receptionist behind the front desk on their way into the elevator.  
  


When the doors closed behind them, Shelly heard her coworker suck in a deep breath as he leaned over to push the button to the 7th floor. He always did this ritual, yet in the two years she had known him, she still did not know why. Today, curiosity got the best of her.  
  


“You scared of heights, Tabs?”  
  


Tabitha rolled his eyes and shook his head, holding up a finger. _One moment._  
  


They rode in silence, the only sound between them coming from the hum of the elevator’s ascent.  
  


The door opened and they exited the elevator, her friend exhaling in relief.  
  


Finally, he spoke. “Do you really wish to know?”  
  


“Well, duh.”  
  


The two of them wandered to a row of labcoats hanging on the wall, grabbing the ones that corresponded to their last names.  
  


“Perhaps I shouldn’t. It’s asinine and I’m embarrassed to admit that I still do it.” Tabitha’s pale face flushed a hint of red.  
  


Shelly continued her prodding—she knew Tabitha would crumble under her persistence. He always did. “C’mon, you can trust me! I mean hell, if you pass out in the elevator one of these days, I kinda need to know if I should call an ambulance.”  
  


Tabitha paused mid-step, checking his watch to make sure he had a few minutes left to spare. He gave a sigh and shrugged, sticking his hands in the pockets of his labcoat. Bracing himself. “Oh, all right…”  
  


His eyes scanned the area for any sign of his other coworkers before continuing.  
  


“When I was a boy, my Mother told me to hold my breath whenever I rode in an elevator because if I didn’t, I could leave my soul behind as my body went up. By holding my breath, I could keep it locked inside of me.”  
  


Shelly just stared at him, wide-eyed in disbelief.  
  


“And you still believe that? _You_ , of all people?”  
  


“It’s not so much that I still believe it as it reminds me of home.” His mother’s smile flooded his thoughts and he gave a light-hearted chuckle. “…but I’m taking precautions, just in case. Ahya…”  
  


Shelly shot him that cheeky grin again. “Pfft, you mechanical engineers are all the same. Overly cautious rather than cautiously risky.”  
  


“Don’t think that I don’t know how you chemical engineers tick. You’re the ones who end up costing money and lives when your boldness gets the best of you.” Tabitha gave a confident smirk, eyes narrowed in a rare squint, revealing their striking color.  
  


Those red, ruby eyes.  
  


They continued to jab at each other all the way down the hall and into the conference room where their boss was making final preparations for his presentation. Gradually, other scientists filed in and filled the seats around the table until not a single chair was left empty. Everyone had arrived with 20 minutes to spare, for nobody dared to walk in late. They knew that the meeting began at 8:00 AM.

 

 

 

 

 

The morning went by in a blur of slideshows, diagrams, and statistics. Somebody stood up and presented the results of an experiment they had done on Pokeballs and air resistance. Another crunched numerical data.  
  


12:30 PM.  
  


Lunch break.  
  


Most of the room migrated to the basement cafeteria, but Tabitha and Shelly opted to stay behind to sit in the windowsill and eat their lunch in each other’s company.

 

 

Shelly looked out over the city, captivated. The rain had since turned from a shower to a downpour, and even from high above, she could see the water coursing into the gutters in the streets.  
  


“It’s amazing, isn’t it?"  


“What?” Tabitha asked, biting into one of his crackers.  
  


His friend pressed her face against the glass. “All this water.”  
  


“I’m a bit sick of it, to be honest.”  
  


“Well, I’m a bit sick of your negativity.”  
  


“Oh, be quiet.” He retorted, finishing the last few crumbs of his food. “It’s hard to like the rain when it’s cold like this. I’m terribly susceptible.”  
  


Shelly snorted. “Go buy an orange."  


“Do you know how many I’ll have to eat just to even get the bare minimum of my Vitamin C?” Tabitha stowed his tupperwares back into his lunchbox, rising from his seat to head back to the meeting room. The boss would be there any minute now.  
  


Shelly pursued him. “No, but then you know how many you have to buy.”  
  


“I’d rather not. Fruit is expensive.”

 

 

 

 

 

1:00 PM.  
  


The afternoon went by in a blur of tests, data collection, and reports. Shelly had migrated one floor down to work in the laboratory with the other chemists.  
  


Tabitha worked alone at a cubicle, running a 3D simulation. Just the way he liked it.

 

 

 

 

 

8:00 PM.  
  


Another day that had run late, drawn to a close. The entire floor packed up their belongings and lined up in single file to return their labcoats to the wall and board the elevator. It stopped on every floor, as it always did, to pick up more and more employees. Through the sea of faces, Tabitha could pick out Shelly in the corner, undoing the bun in her hair.  
  


When the elevator reached the ground floor, dozens of Devon employees poured out into the atrium, out into the chilling rain again. Tabitha and Shelly lagged behind them, taking their sweet time on the walk to Rustboro Station. They talked about their day, vented their frustrations with their coworkers and failed experiments, and laughed about how they would do it all again tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.  
  


Once they entered the turnstiles and took the staircase down, down into the depths, they parted ways—he on one platform, she on the opposite, separated by a strip of train tracks.  
  


Tabitha turned to stare back at her, leaning on the handle of his umbrella. She mimicked him and soon, they were playing a game, copying each other’s movements as other businesspeople began to cluster idly around them. Waiting.   
  
  
Then, a train rolled in between them and when it left, the platform had emptied.  
  


And just like that, she was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

His train arrived precisely three minutes later, just as packed as it had been in the morning.  
  


Rush hour happened twice a day.

 

 

 

 

 

9:26 PM.  


Tabitha exited his home station, stopping by the local convenience store to pick up dinner. Today they had a special on Goldeen rice balls and potato chips, though he did peruse the produce to check the prices of the oranges. Too expensive.  
  


His whole body ached on the long walk home. Ached from standing long hours, ached from sitting long hours, ached from walking to and fro, to and fro.  
  


By the time he unlocked his apartment door, his watch read 10:02.  
  


Skitty insisted upon eating dinner right then. His stomach agreed with her, but his mind simply would not let him until he was out of his suit and into more comfortable attire.  
  


The two of them shared the cheap feast that awaited within the confines of that plastic convenience store bag and by the time they had finished, it was already approaching 10:45.  
  


Tabitha booted up his work laptop and removed thick stacks of papers from his briefcase, organizing them into piles that soon toppled over into an avalanche of documents and blueprints, but by then, he was too far gone to care.  
  


At 11:59, his body collapsed into bed with Skitty wedged underneath the covers, snuggled at his side.

 

He’d been awake for a total of 1,140 minutes. He was asleep within 1.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5:00 AM.  
  


The alarm went off.  
  
He ate breakfast and packed his lunch.  
  


5:15 AM.

He jumped in the shower.

 

5:30 AM.

He put on his suit and gathered his briefcase.

 

5:45 AM.

He left the apartment.

 

6:02 AM.

He arrived at the station and waited for his train, buying his daily canned coffee.

 

6:51 AM.

He pulled in to Rustboro Station, right on time.

 

7:00 AM.

He met with Shelly at the Lileep statue and they walked to work.

 

7:25 AM.

They entered Devon Co. and rode the elevator up to the 7th floor, Tabitha holding his breath the entire ride. Again.

 

8:00 AM.

The morning meeting began.

 

12:30 PM.

Lunch break.

 

1:00 PM.

Experimental period.

 

8:13 PM.

Work ended late. Again.

He and Shelly walked to Rustboro Station for the long, packed train rides home.

 

9:33 PM.

He arrived at his home station and checked the convenience store’s specials for dinner.

 

10:19 PM.

He entered his apartment and greeted Skitty. They sat at the desk and ate dinner in the candlelight.

 

10:53 PM.

Research. Blueprints. Data.

 

12:24 AM.

 

 

 

5:00.

5:15.

5:30.

5:45.

6:00.

6:51.

7:00.

7:22.

8:00.

12:30.

1:00.

8:26.

9:49.

10:28.

11:01.

1:31.

 

 

 

 

 

  _ **RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP.**_

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Tabitha’s eyes snapped open.  
  


That was not his alarm.

This was not his bed.  
  


As a man of routine, this deeply frightened him.  
  


He peeled his face from the keyboard of his laptop with a grunt, staring at the blank screen before him. Confound it, he’d fallen asleep in the middle of a project!  
  


This had never happened. It was never supposed to happen. It was so horribly, terribly wrong.  
  


_Oh no, oh no oh no oh no…  
  
_

Tabitha stroked the mouse frantically to wake the computer from its slumber, shooting a panicked glance at his watch.  
  


4:42 AM. Nearly time to wake up anyway.  
  


The screen flickered on with a burst of light and Tabitha could nearly hear the angels singing when his files popped up in a window, intact. He sighed in relief, only to be interrupted by the startling sound of tearing paper.  
  


**_RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP._**

 

 

It was then that he noticed Skitty, wide-awake and playful as always, rolling among the shreds of what remained of his important documents.  
  
  
He had not stowed them away in the absolute, absolute safety of his briefcase. His body had betrayed him by granting him sleep at the most inopportune of times.  
  
  
Part of him wanted to believe that this was just some nightmarish dream and that he would wake up to the buzz of his PokeNav any minute now, but the scientist in him knew that this worst case scenario was all too real.  
  


A cocktail of anxiety, seething anger, and deep despair welled up inside of him, his emotions bubbling violently within.  
  


“I am really, really, really, re **ally, really, _really_ …”  
  
**

The words kept coming, over and over like a broken record.  


“ ** _…really, really, really, REALLY…”  
  
_**

Tabitha’s shaking hands gripped the wooden desk until his knuckles turned white, trying to contain his livid thoughts.  
  


Then, without warning, he erupted.

 

 

 ** _“…REALLY UPSET WITH YOU,_** **_SKITTY!!!!!”_**

 

Skitty stopped dead in her tracks, pure terror written in the lines on her face. She peered up to stare at the mountain of a man towering over her, and even in the darkness, she could see the fire in his blood red eyes. Never had her master been so furious.  
  


In one fell swoop, Tabitha shoved her and the shredded remnants of the data he had so painstakingly collected off of the desk with the back of his arm, sending his Pokemon and a flurry of paper scraps flying across the room. Skitty hit the door with a loud thud and tumbled to the ground, struggling to find her footing, then darted into the bathroom with a wail to hide quivering in the darkest corner of the shower.  
  


Tabitha paced his room, hyperventilating from the adrenaline pumping through him. Through the thin walls he could hear movement in the rooms surrounding him—no doubt that his episode had woken up the entire complex and that he’d be hearing about it later.  
  


But, that was no concern of his right now. What the hell was he going to do _right now_ , in the present? Skitty had ruined weeks worth of material and there wasn’t nearly enough time to even begin redoing any of it. There was never enough time.  
  


 _It’s far too late to call in sick_ , he thought, _but I’m so, so nauseous.  
  
_

He checked his watch again. This little tirade had cost him, and now he was behind schedule. As much as it pained him to do so, he would have to accept the consequences for his carelessness.  
  


Perhaps he could still buy some time. He sacrificed his breakfast and lunch just to skip straight to his morning shower, where Skitty was waiting for him. Tabitha did not even stop to reconcile with her—he turned the shower on without a second thought, spooking her out of the stall to take shelter underneath his bed.  
  


By the time he locked the door to his apartment, he was already running a half an hour behind.

 

 

 

 

 

Today it wasn’t raining, but the frost dusting the grass has marked it as the first freeze of the season.  
  
  
Tabitha knew what he had to do.  
  


Walking was too leisurely.  
  


So he ran.  
  


God, when was the last time he had run? High school P.E. class? Tabitha knew he must have looked like some kind of Walrein flopping about on the ice as he pushed himself onward down the road, trying desperately not to stumble and fall face-first into the dirt. He had to stop every few yards to catch his breath, his lungs stinging from the cold. Passersby wordlessly watched him fly past, mouthing prayers.  
  


He was angry at himself for falling asleep at his computer, angry at himself for not putting his documents away, angry at how out of shape he was.  
  


Finally, the glowing lights of the station welcomed him through its gates. Tabitha half tripped down the stairwell onto the platform and bought himself his usual hot milk coffee, hoping it would warm his sore throat.  
  


He had missed his ride a long time ago—it was probably on its way back from Rustboro Station now to shuttle the commuters waiting on the opposite platform further out into the country.  
  


Suddenly, the muffled high-pitched chiptune ring from Tabitha’s PokeNav buzzed inside his suit pocket, echoing through the walls of the tunnel as he pulled it out and checked to see who it was.

 

**  
**

 

A sinking feeling.  
  


“Hello.”  
  


Genuine worry wracked Shelly’s voice on the other end. “Tabs, where the heck are you? I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes and I can’t wait here much longer or bossman’s gonna get pissed that I’m not early. Are you okay?”  
  


_Am I okay? AM I OKAY….?  
  
_

Despite her serious tone, Tabitha couldn’t help but double over in hysterics at her question. “Ahyahyahyahya! I am about the furthest outlier from anything that is considered ‘okay’, Shelly.”  
  


“What happene—“  
  


Tabitha cut her off abruptly as the train bound for Rustboro pulled in. “Just go. I’m going to be late.”  
  


He hung up the PokeNav with a click, stuffed it back into his pocket, and dissolved into the mass of commuters, a cog in the machine.  
  


Just like everyone else.

 

 

 

 

 

An hour. He was an hour late to work by the time he stepped inside the elevator at Devon.  
  


Try as he might, he could not hold his breath as it rose up, up to the 7th floor, to where his fate awaited. The young man was convinced part of whatever constituted his soul had died that morning anyway.  


His boss was deep in the heat of a discussion about weather patterns when Tabitha opened the door. The squat, greying man stopped mid-sentence and focused on the interruption, whistling through his teeth. Tabitha could feel all thirty pairs of eyes in the room locked on him as he dragged himself over to the edge of the table, leaning over it for support.  
  


Here he stood making a scene, panting heavily, his hair a tousled mess upon his head and his suit a disheveled mess upon his body.

 

 

The boss was the first to break the silence, not even attempting to hold his sardonic tongue. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Homura! Glad you could join us today. Care to share with us why you were so late?”  
  


“The...blueprints….” Tabitha answered between breaths.  
  


Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the concern carved into Shelly’s expression on the other side of the table.  
  


“The blueprints…have been slightly damaged.”  
  


“Let’s see them, then.” the boss said, clasping his hands together.  
  


Tabitha hesitated. Reluctantly, he lifted his briefcase onto the table and removed from it a plastic Ziploc bag filled with shreds of paper.  
  


The boss folded his hands behind his back and left his perch behind the podium, pacing with a business-like air up to the other end of the room, inspecting the bag and its contents carefully. “Well I don’t know what your definition of ‘slightly’ is, but this is certainly not what I had in mind.” He turned on heels like the hands of a clock, glaring daggers into Tabitha’s fear-stricken heart. “What the hell happened here?”  
  


“My…Pokemon…”  
  


The boss leaned in. “So you mean to tell me that your Pokemon ate your homework?”  
  


Off in the distance, a few colleagues stifled their snickers, trying to keep straight faces.  
  


When Tabitha did not reply, the man tossed the Ziploc on the table, his voice firm and low. Chastising.  
  


“This is not an elementary school, Mr. Homura. This is a progressive company that fuels tens of millions of Pokedollars into creating life-changing products. We are scientists, we are researchers, and we are to uphold a certain level of professionalism. It is important to be on-time, it is important to be well-groomed, and above all, it is important to be prepared.  


Mr. Homura, today you are none of these things.”  
  


Tabitha watched his boss slowly return to his post at the front of the room, apologizing profusely with a bow. “I am truly sorry, sir. The circumstances were unavoidable. I can assure you that it will never happen again.”  
  


The man never once took his cold, grey eyes off of him. “Let this be a warning to you that next time you cause such a disturbance, Ms. Izumi there will have an empty seat beside her.” He gestured to the chair next to Shelly, waiting for him.  
  


“Yes, sir.”  
  


“Sit.” he ordered.  
  


No, his boss would not be content to leave the situation settled like that. Now, he would make a long-winded precedent of Tabitha’s mistake—a warning for all.  
  


“And as for the rest of you, let Mr. Homura serve as an example of precisely the type of behavior that hinders progress in our world. Taking even a single step backwards requires you to take two steps forward just to catch up to where you **_should_** have been going in the first place.”  
  


Tabitha said no more for the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

Shelly had waited for him outside the building, but Tabitha was slower going than usual, sulking along and dragging his feet.  
  


“Hey, lighten up, Tabs! So, you got chewed out by the bossman. Happens to everyone—even happened to me a few years ago. All it takes is once.”  
  


He grimaced, pushing her away. “That’s one time too many in my opinion.”  
  


His friend’s eyes brightened with the telltale shine of an idea. Tabitha was so focused on the road ahead that he hadn’t even noticed that Shelly had disappeared from his side until she started rubbing his shoulders in the firm, yet gentle knead of a massage. Gradually, he slowed his steps until they stopped altogether in the middle of a crosswalk, the beeping of a car the only thing to rouse him from his trance.  
  


Shelly flipped a finger at the driver and led Tabitha back onto the sidewalk. “You’re always so uptight, y’know that? We need to find a way for you to chillaaax. C’mon.”  
  


She grabbed her coworker by the hand and pulled him eagerly along, but he ground his feet into the concrete in protest.  
  


“Where exactly are we going? The station is in the other direction.”  
  


“Out to dinner.” Shelly grinned.  
  


Tabitha sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Oh cripes, Shelly, you are well aware that restaurants are too expe—“  
  


“My treat.”  
  


Well, he couldn’t say no to that.

 

 

 

 

 

They stood in front of a small wooden building (probably one of the few remaining in the entire city) with pieces of cloth for doors and colorful lantern lights that gave the place a traditional feel.  
  


“I thought you said we were going to dinner.” Tabitha seemed disappointed.  
  


“We are, numbnuts!”  
  


“Shelly, this is a bar.” He pointed to the crude wooden sign swinging from its hinges on the ground.  
  


“An astute observation.” She smiled, keeping her cool even as she watched Tabitha begin to go postal.

 

 

“Are you crazy!? We have work tomorrow!”  
  


“Everyone else on our floor comes here all the time. Except you."  


“B-but I don’t drink!” He was all flustered now, his cheeks red with blush. “I tell them that I’ve got an allergy and they leave me alone about it.”  
  


“Pff, an allergy? To what?”  
  


“I’m allergic to not being in control of my own mind!”  
  


“…are you even listening to yourself right now?” Shelly crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. “I said we were going to dinner, did I not? It’s an _izakaya_ \--they serve food here too.”  
  


“Tch, fine. You’re paying for it after all, so I don’t suppose I have much of a say.”  
  


Tabitha pushed past the red cloth doors into the pub, taking in the scenery before him with a critical gaze.  
  


It was packed with businessmen and women who had just gotten off of work at the same time, though Tabitha was glad that none of them appeared to be any of his coworkers. If they _were_ here, they were probably too drunk to notice anyway. Everyone sat shoulder to shoulder at small barstools, some making idle chitchat with the strangers beside them while others chose to retreat into their own private thoughts. Chefs and baristas bustled about inside the inner ring of counters, sliding orders to their customers at breakneck speed. The smell of cigarette smoke and fried food filled the air along with hearty laughs and loud voices.  
  


To Tabitha, it looked more like a barn than a food establishment.  
  


Shelly passed him, grabbing his wrist to show him over to a pair of open stools in the corner. Two menus and a chef were there, already awaiting their orders.  
  


Tabitha glanced over his options for what felt like an eternity. “Perhaps I’ll just get the snap peas.”  
  


“Tabs, do you _really_ want snap peas or are you just being polite by picking the cheapest thing on the menu?” Shelly raised a brow at him.  
  


“I…”  
  


Caught red-handed. He looked back to his friend, then sheepishly back to the menu, then addressed the chef across the counter.  
  


“…I’ll have the tempura."  


Shelly grinned ear to ear, turning to the chef. “Good. And I’ll have what he’s having.”

 

 

 

 

 

Tabitha couldn’t remember the last time he had had hot food. That first bite of Crawdaunt tempura he had taken and how the fried shell of breadcrumbs crumbled and melted in his mouth and released a burst of juicy, crustacean flavor had him seeing stars. He reeled in his seat, savoring every last morsel until his plate was clean.  
  


“ _My god_ ,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair in bliss.  
  


Shelly pushed his plate aside. “I ordered us some refreshments, but you were too busy losing it over there so I had to order for you. Don’t worry--you’ll like it.”  
  


“Is it alcoholic?”  
  


“Yes.”  
  


“Shelly, what did I just tell you?! I don’t like alcohol!”  
  


Shelly rest her chin on her hands, her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. “When’s the last time you had it, hm?"  


Tabitha had to pick his brain for a moment, grimacing as he recalled the memory. “My third year at university. It was an unpleasant experience, to say the least."  


“College, huh? That ain’t the same as going out with your BFF for a couple of drinks. I promise.”  
  


“…do you _swear_?”  
  


“Yes, I promise. I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die.”  
  


The barista slid them a tray with several small ceramic glasses filled to the rims with clear liquids, some of which was tinted a slight green. Shelly grabbed one of these and took a sip, holding it out to her friend.  
  


“Here, try it.”  
  


Tabitha’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Drinking after other people is revolting. Do you know precisely how many germs live in our mouths?”  
  


Shelly facepalmed. “Oh lord Tabs, you’re killin’ me here.” She finished the rest of the cup and leaned over to offer a different one. “Have this one before I decide to spit in it.”  
  


Tabitha took the tiny cup in his hands, scrutinizing its contents. If he didn’t know any better, he probably would have mistaken the liquid for water. He sat there hesitant, Shelly’s gaze boring into him in anticipation.  
  


Finally, he brought the cup to his lips and took a small swig, waiting for it to come back up or for him to fall down dead or some other crazy, illogical thing to happen.  
  


But nothing happened at first. In fact, he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a bit of a letdown. Then, without warning, a pleasant, warm feeling seeped through his body, spreading to his limbs to erase their tension like liquid magic.  
  


He recognized the taste. Sake.  
  


And he wanted that fleeting feeling to return.  
  


Shelly had watched his frown turn upside-down, knowingly. She didn’t even have to ask if Tabitha wanted another because he reached over and grabbed a second cup of his own volition before the words could even leave her lips.  
  


Though, the difference between Shelly and Tabitha was that Shelly knew her limits. Cup after cup after cup after cup began to disappear from the tray.  
  


“Yo Tabs, you might wanna slow down a little,” she advised.  
  


But Tabitha just replied with a haughty chuckle. “Ahya! D’ya know who you’re talkin’ to? I, Tabitha, of the great Devon Corp’ration, will go ‘zactly as fast as I want!”  
  


By the end of the night, Shelly had only had two of the cups and remained relatively sober while Tabitha had greedily downed the rest of them and dove deeper into a drunk stupor.  
  


But lighten up he did. The two of them spent hours at the pub, gossiping about their colleagues and how their boss was going to keel over and die before he retired and asking themselves how Shroomish could hold things if they didn’t have any hands and telling outlandish stories that didn’t actually happen but sounded realistic enough that they both believed them. Tabitha had fallen out of his seat several times already, bursting into that goofy laugh of his.  
  


He had long forgotten about the embarrassing incident at work earlier that morning. In fact, his mind was so clouded over that he had practically forgotten about anything and everything.  
  


Shelly clucked her tongue, checking his wristwatch. “Guess I’m gonna have to take you home. Lemme call one of the guys to drop my bike off at your station. You just can’t hold your alcohol, can you, Tabs?”

 

 

“Oh my ffffffuckin’ god, how do they do it???” he replied, confused. “How do Shroomish hold ANYTHING if they don’t have hands???”

 

 

 

 

 

 

They arrived at Tabitha’s home station several hours later to find a navy blue moped waiting for them locked at the gate. Shelly dug around in her pants pockets for her keys and, after careful consideration, decided to seat Tabitha in front of her so that he couldn’t roll off without her noticing.  
  


A single headlight cut through the darkness of the countryside as they zoomed across the dirt road. Luckily, Shelly knew where she was going because Tabitha was barely comprehensible.  


It would be a lie to say that she didn’t envy him. She lived in the urban sprawl of Slateport where the buildings lit up the night, but here in the country, she could see every star and glistening speck mapped out above her in the midnight sky.  
  


It was truly beautiful and it was such a shame that Tabitha was too drunk to notice.  
  


Shelly pulled in to the lot of the small, dilapidated apartment complex, parking her moped close to the stairs.  
  


“Welcome home. Time to rise ‘n shine.”  
  


With much effort, she helped Tabitha to his feet and slung one of his arms over her shoulder for support as they slowly climbed, step by step, up to his apartment door.  
  


She fished around in the pockets of Tabitha’s suit for his keys, but her job was made difficult because he kept slapping her hands away.  
  


“Shelly, stoppit Shelly that tickles! Ahyahyahya!”  
  


Oh, if he could only see himself right now, blushing and laughing like a naive little kid.  
  


Finally, she wrenched the keys from him and unlocked the door, expecting to be attacked by that small, protective Pokemon of his, stepping inside with a sigh of relief when she realized that Skitty was nowhere to be found. The room was dark and Tabitha wasn’t in the right state of mind to scold her for turning the lights on.  
  


Shelly guided him to his bed, noticing a sweater and a pair of PJ pants discarded on the floor. She picked them up, snickering at the childish Torkoal print, and threw them to the inebriated man splayed out on the sheets.  
  


“Here, get out of those nice clothes and throw these on. Bossman’d kill you if you came to work with a wrinkled suit tomorrow, especially after what happened today. I’ll…go check on my bike.”  
  


But when Shelly returned a few minutes later, Tabitha lie fully naked on the floor, staring absent-mindedly at the ceiling. His clothes, both formal and casual, were scattered messily around the room.

 

 

The color drained from Shelly’s face, replaced by a bright cherry red. All she could do for several moments was stare at him, wide-eyed, gasping like a Magikarp out of water.  
  


“ ** _Oh my god,_** Tabs!! You are so hopeless, y’know that? Are you really so smashed that you can’t even dress yourself!?”  
  


With the determination of a doting mother, Shelly took charge and helped him into his pajamas, folding his suit neatly back into the closet. When her work was finished, she pushed him into bed and covered him with the quilt, impressed with her handiwork.  
  


“I don’t know if you have any idea what’s been going on for the past few hours or if you can even understand what I’m saying, but I’m leaving now.”  
  


Shelly rose and started for the exit, flicking the lightswitch to plunge the room into darkness once more. She turned to glance back at him over her shoulder with that cheeky grin of hers, watching her friend flail around in his sheets like a Squirtle stuck on its back.  
  


“Go to sleep, big boy. You’ve got work in the morning.”  
  


The door closed with a creak and just like that, she was gone.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Tabitha awoke in the dead of night, his mind swimming in a sea of nausea. The constant pounding of his splitting headache only made the urge worse until he could not bear it any longer and he stumbled into the bathroom, guided by the light of his PokeNav.  
  


Yet, he could barely see a thing with his vision so blurred. Tabitha reasoned then that it would be a good time to utilize the light switch.  
  


He instantly regretted that decision. Bright, intense light flooded the room and Tabitha cringed, squeezing his eyes shut to try and stop their searing pain. The PokeNav’s small screen in the darkness would have to suffice for now as he lumbered over to the medicine cabinet beside the sink, searching for sweet relief.  
  


A squat bottle of aspirin sat on the top shelf. Salvation.  
  


But when Tabitha went to grab it, his clumsy hands knocked the canister to the floor. He tried to bend over to retrieve it, but his legs quaked and buckled underneath him, sending him toppling head-first to the ground.  
  


With a groan, he peeled his face off the tile and locked eyes with a terrified Skitty huddled behind the sink.  
  


“Skitty…?”

 

 

He reached for the aspirin--a tad too close for Skitty’s comfort. With a hiss, she lashed out at his open hand and darted past the open space between her owner and the door, running back into the room.  
  


She was so fast that it took Tabitha’s sluggish mind a few seconds to register what had happened, though the painful sting the claws had left on the back of his hand served as reminders.  
  


_What’s wrong with her?  
  
_

As much as he wanted to pursue her, he first needed to rid himself of the debilitating migraine interrupting his thoughts. He grabbed the bottle between his fingers, downed three pills dry, and lie there waiting on the floor for a half an hour before the pain began to fade.  
  


Now came the difficult part. Leaning against the doorframe for support, Tabitha tried to rise to his feet, but his legs remained shaky and unstable. Like a newborn baby Deerling, he awkwardly made his way out of the bathroom, trying desperately not to slip and fall.  
  


Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement near the desk.  
  


Tabitha dropped none-too-gracefully to his knees to shine the light from his PokeNav’s screen at the space underneath his desk, revealing a trembling Skitty sitting there.  
  


It was then that Tabitha noticed the bruises on her pale skin and recalled how exactly she had gotten them. His morning outburst at her and the aftermath at work that followed were the only things he had remembered from the previous day.  
  


Immense guilt welled up inside of him. _He_ was the one who caused those marks with his own hand. No wonder Skitty was so afraid of him, a hulk of a man with a short fuse. In the heat of the moment, he had acted so rashly without any regard for her safety, only concerned about his papers. Yes, it had been a great loss of research material, but couldn’t those experiments be replicated under the same conditions for new data? He was very lucky that his Pokemon had sustained only minor bruises—what if he had thrown her so hard that she had broken bones, or _worse_?  
  


His papers could be rewritten in time, but Skitty was irreplaceable. Now, he had lost a great deal of her trust because he had been so _stupid and selfish_. How could he even begin to make amends with her?  
  


Last night was such a blur. That meant he had probably forgotten to feed Skitty altogether, so perhaps he could coax her out of hiding with a late dinner.  
  


Tabitha inched over to the minifridge and removed what remained of the Goldeen rice balls from a few days prior. Keeping his distance, he placed it in the palm of his hand and offered it to Skitty with a whistle to get her attention.  
  


“Skitty…”  
  


The Pokemon’s ears perked up, but she still did not budge.  
  


“Skitty, please…”  
  


She stared at her master with a blank expression, then at the ball of meat in his outstretched hand, but she still did not budge.  
  


“P-Please take it…”  
  


Finally, Skitty sniffed the air and peered out from the desk, approaching his hand with a cautious gait. She stopped to lick the piece of food, nibbling every last crumb.  
  


Tabitha’s lip quivered as he reached out to pet her, but she did not budge and he was able to scratch her behind the ear.  
  


“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, Skitty…I’m not going to hurt you again. I will _never_ hurt you again.”  
  


Gradually, he began to close the distance between them until she was near enough for him to lift her up and cradle her in his arms.

 

 

“I am so, so, so, so, so, so….s-so sorry, Skitty….please forgive me…”  
  


He held her firmly enough to make certain that she did not fall, yet gently so as not to squeeze her delicate frame too hard. The muffled mew she gave in response shattered his heart into pieces and he sat there for a long, long time hugging her against him.  
  


There was one other thing he remembered that might help him set things right.  
  


Tabitha raised his hand to search across the top of his desk, smiling as his fingers brushed against the hard, sturdy surface of a package. It took him several tries, but he was able to knock it down from its perch to the floor. Admittedly, he still wasn’t fully in control of his limbs yet.  
  


The box fell with a jingling sound to the ground, spooking Skitty, but Tabitha only held her closer for comfort.  
  


“I was saving this for Christmas…though, considering the circumstances, it would be better to give it to you now.”  
  


He untied the festive red bow. Underneath the lid, in a nest of soft tissue paper, lay a beautiful silver bell.  
  


“I was told that this Soothe Bell strengthens the bond between a Pokemon and its trainer. Skitty, you mean the world to me…”  
  


Tabitha pinched the pink silk ribbon between his fingers and tied it carefully around Skitty’s neck. The sadness in her face melted away, replaced by the spirited smile that her owner knew so well.

 

 

“I don’t know what I would do without you…!"  


Fatigue descended on Tabitha’s troubled mind, turning his body to lead. He lowered himself to the carpet, hugging his knees to his chest, and slowly fell asleep.  
  


His beloved Skitty curled up in the nook underneath his arm and followed suit, sharing his warmth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

5:00 AM.  
  


The PokeNav’s alarm roused Tabitha from his slumber for yet another wonderful day of work. His headache had returned full force and in the midst of sluggishly seizing the day, he had to take a trip into the bathroom to pop another round of aspirin before his morning shower.  
  


Skitty waited happily by the stall door, nipping at his heels as he slipped out of his wet towel and into his suit.  
  


“Skitty, I do appreciate your enthusiasm, really I do, and if I could only be so energetic…but not today.” Tabitha picked her up and gingerly set her into a mangle of sheets on his bed. “Gracious no, not today.”  
  


With his stomach still restless, he opted to skip breakfast altogether and made it out the door even earlier than usual.  
  


A dense fog blanketed the countryside, shrouding everything within ten feet of Tabitha’s vision in a veil of mist. He likened the sensation to being trapped in his own little bubble, but instead of being welcome privacy, it was eerie and unsettling. Every so often, another commuter would materialize from the haze like a ghost and disappear as they passed by. Tabitha hated to admit it, but the foggy days were his least favorite because the fear that someone or something would jump out at him nagged at the back of his mind, and he wouldn’t be able to see them in time, much less react fast enough to defend himself.  
  


That was why he nearly screeched aloud when his PokeNav unexpectedly buzzed within his pocket.  
  


It was a text from Shelly.

 

 

Oh, did he have questions that demanded answers!

 

 

 

Tabitha swore he could feel his heart skip a beat. The growing number of passersby must have noticed how he had stopped in the middle of the path and how intensely red his face had flushed because they kept glancing in his general direction.  


 

A terrible realization dawned on him. He couldn’t recall going out with Shelly in the first place, and now she had gone and told him that he had been so smashed that he had stripped down to his skin right in front of her. That act alone was crippling enough for someone as obsessively self-conscious as he, but _what if…?_

 

__

 

Tabitha whistled a sigh of relief through his teeth. She knew him too well.  
  


His coworker did not reply again until he boarded the train bound for Rustboro.

 

 

Great. Not only did he have a hangover, but Shelly wasn’t going to be around to carry him through the day. This fact did not entirely sink in until he exited the station and paused before the Lileep statue out of habit before continuing onward into the city. Today, he would not wait for her—she would never come.

 

 

 

 

 

 

No matter how long Tabitha stared at the shrimp crackers in his hand, he could not urge himself to eat them. Nothing in his lunch looked particularly appetizing today, but he could not tell if it was because he still felt the occasional pang of nausea or if it was because he was spending his lunch break eating alone for the first time. Nonetheless, he forced them into his mouth under the logical assumption that if he skipped another meal, he might pass out later on.  
  


Wordlessly, he stared out at the window down at the Durant-sized people milling about in the streets until the lunch period ended and his research team returned.  
  


Just as they filed back into the room, the sound of screams and shattering glass stole his attention.  
  


Someone killed the lights but before anyone could figure out what was happening, a tidal wave of water burst through the elevator doors, cascading into nearby cubicles, meeting rooms, and office spaces. Furniture, mechanical equipment, and fellow scientists were swept away in the aftermath.

 

 

A Sealeo and Carvanha flopped out of the elevator, accompanied by a man and woman clad in the all-too-recognizable blue and white stripes of a Team Aqua uniform. More grunts came to join them via the stairs with packs of Mightyenas and it wasn’t long before the entire floor was swarming with gang members and their Pokemon.  
  


Pokeballs flew through the air as Tabitha’s coworkers released a colorful assortment of Pokemon: Ludicolo, Volbeat, Kadabra, Exploud, among others. But, for every Devon employee, there seemed to be two or three Team Aqua grunts willing to fight them. They were outnumbered.  
  


Tabitha knew he didn’t have a Pokemon with him to defend himself, so he decided to do the most logical thing in response.  
  


He fled.  
  


The back hallway appeared to be a straight shot to the fire escape at the back of the room. Freedom.  
  


Tabitha seized the opportunity without a second thought and tried to push past the upturned chairs and filing cabinets blocking his way, wading through the standing water that pooled around his ankles. But, his current state made him slower than usual and terribly clumsy. He had hoped that in the chaos that ensued, he could slip past the front lines unnoticed while everyone else was busy battling, but his hopes were crushed with a single word.  
  


“Hey!”

 

 

A grunt yelled, alerting others of his presence. Tabitha’s mind told him to freeze, but his body kept on plowing forward, forward to the door.  
  


Loud snarls.  
  


Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the black blurs of a pair of Mightyenas chasing after him. With shaking hands, he threw open the door and threw himself into the stairwell with the canines hot on his tail. There was no way he could make it out of the building without being attacked by the Pokemon chasing him—it was only a matter of time before they caught up, and in all likelihood, there would be other grunts waiting for him on the lower levels. He needed a Pokemon and he needed one as soon as possible.  
  


Time for Plan B.  
  


Rather than descending the stairs, Tabitha dragged his body to the next floor up, frantically inputting a number sequence into the pinpad beside the door until it beeped in confirmation, allowing him access inside. He slammed the door behind him and locked it with a click just as he heard the echoes of angry growls reverberating throughout the stairwell.  
  


As much as he had heard about this room, it was the only one in the entire facility he had never personally visited, and for a good reason: Tabitha now stood in the confines of the office of Mr. Stone, president of the Devon Corporation and his highest boss.  
  


Tabitha could only dream of owning an apartment as luxurious as this office. A long glass top table spanned the width of the room, filled with an assortment of various ancient gems and stones which the president had procured to feed his collection. A heavy oak desk sat on the other side where Tabitha half expected to find the elderly man sitting in confusion at his sudden intrusion.  
  


Luckily, Mr. Stone was nowhere to be found. Word had most likely gotten out about the incident on Aqua’s infiltration by now and the president would have been smuggled away to a safer location. For this, Tabitha was relieved; he would be able to explain the thought process behind his actions later, especially with regard for what he was about to do.  
  


He wandered over to the nearest display case beside Mr. Stone’s desk and peered through the glass at the prehistoric fossil that lie within. _This will suffice_ , Tabitha thought. His conscience cringed at the laundry list of implications this act was bound to cause, but he knew very well that this was an issue of life or death and if it came down to it, he would rather suffer a demotion rather than lose an arm or a leg to a Mightyena’s bite.  
  


Carefully, Tabitha removed the glass from the display and wrenched the fossil from its setting with both hands, inspecting the bone fragments trapped within in the rock. Unfortunately, geology was not his forte and so he could not decipher what type of fossil it was at a mere glance, but he would soon find out.  
  


A loud banging sound tore Tabitha’s focus away from the fossil and back to the fire escape door. Whatever had made such a dent in the frame seemed adamant at breaking in, as with each pound of the door, the frame caved further and further until Tabitha could see the steel beginning to melt and glowing, fiery fangs poke out from the hole that they had carved from it.  
  


His eyes flicked to the stairs on the other side of the room. They were his only option now.  
  


The Mightyena pair ripped through the door to the fire escape just as Tabitha reached the bottom of the staircase, their noses raised to the air to pick up his scent.  
  


The 6th floor of the Devon Corporation housed a wealth of complex machinery and it was where Tabitha had spent most of his time as an intern years ago. In an emergency like this, he was glad he knew the twists and turns of its halls like the back of his hand. Much to his dismay, he caught sight of several Aqua grunts patrolling the area, engaging in battles with the unlucky scientists they came across. It was this misfortune of his comrades and the blare of the alarms that he relied on as a distraction as he made his way to a certain room.  
  


The pinpad to unlock the automatic doors here had a faster, more reliable option. He fished his employee ID out of the pocket of his labcoat and swiped it through the scanner, diving into the room the instant they buzzed open. With a shrill beep, they closed behind him, locking him in for security measures.  
  


Tabitha breathed a long sigh of relief. He had made it here all in one piece with the fossil intact in his iron grip.  
  


All across the back wall stretched a massive supercomputer with a screen several times Tabitha’s height and more buttons on its dashboard than the most extensive television remote. Bundles of wires fed into the platform of an even larger glass tube to the left, connecting the entire ensemble together.  
  


Tabitha was quite familiar with this machine. After all, he had been on the research team that had engineered the technology to extract DNA from long dead organisms, making it possible to revive what was once thought extinct.  
  


He approached the complicated console and typed in a command, powering the system on. A panel opened up inside the dashboard, glowing in anticipation as Tabitha placed the fossil inside.  
  


Entering a few strings of text, he pushed a series of colored buttons on the dash and took a careful step back to observe as the machine roared to life, beeping and whirring and sounding an electronic symphony of mechanical noises that was music to his ears. Thick, orange smoke filled the glass container until he could no longer see inside.  
  


Suddenly, Tabitha heard the spine-chilling squeal of scratched metal along with shouts and the crazed barking of Mightyenas. Through the window, he could see Aqua grunts gathering on the other side, pounding their fists on the door. He tried to duck down out of view, but it was too late—the grunts had already seen him and knew he was hiding.  
  


“Mightyena, fire fang!”  
  


One of the Pokemon tore a hole through the door and recoiled with a whimper, getting a mouthful of circuitry and a nasty electric shock. Another Mightyena stuck its head through and glared at Tabitha, snapping its jaws and snarling madly.  
  


Tabitha shot a worried glance toward the computer screen. Reconstruction progress read 12%.  
  


_Come on, come on…  
  
_

That automatic door was a godsend. No doubt it bought him precious time as the Mightyenas tried to widen the hole that they had created, bit by bit, zap by painful zap. The grunts tried to pry their way through too, even if kicking and punching proved relatively ineffective.  
  


The machine had not finished by the time Team Aqua and their pack of Mightyenas broke their way inside. One of the men, his spindly arms covered in a messy cluster of tattoos, pointed an accusatory finger right at Tabitha.

 

 

“So _yer_ the one who thought’cha could get away from me, ya lil’ rat!”  
  


A burly woman in the back of the group yelled over her comrades. “The Boss’ll have fun wit’cha for shore!”  
  


47%.

 

 

Tabitha continued to distance himself until he found himself with his back pressed against the console. “L-listen you lot! I don’t know what you want from me or what you plan to accomplish through terrorizing the great Devon Corporation, but I can assure you that our president Mr. Stone will swiftly bring you to justice!”  
  


“Yeah yeah, yer president bailed on ya and every one’a yer nerdy friends!” The tattooed grunt jeered.  
  


61%.  
  


Another grunt chimed in excitedly. “C’mon, let’s take him hostage already! I seen it done in movies ‘n I wanna try it today too!”  
  


83%.  
  


Was Team Aqua really this childish? Tabitha had never come face to face with them, but their banter made it quite hard to take their threats seriously. “If you require me intact, I would suggest telling your furry friends there to calm down.”  
  


“Nah, they just wanna play wit’cha! Now c’mon ‘n give ‘em a pet!”  
  


The Mightyenas, now five of them in number, drew closer, growing more restless by the second. Their leader tensed, ready to leap upon the scientist.  


_**SKRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWW!** _   


An ear-splitting roar seemed to shake the entire building.  
  


Everyone in the room froze dead in their tracks and turned to stare at what had emerged from the cloud of orange smoke within the tube of the revival machine.

 

 

The piercing yellow eyes of an Aerodactyl stared right back down at them. In one swift movement, it unfurled its wings like mighty sails and smashed the chamber that contained it.  
  


Glass rained down upon the horrified gangsters, but Tabitha quickly realized how fast the tables had turned in his favor and he decided to take advantage of the situation at hand. He addressed the crowd with a smirk, his haughty laughter filling the room.  
  


“Ahyahyahya! That’s right, cower in fear! I, Tabitha, and my fearsome Aerodactyl will _crush you_!”  
  


As if in unison, the Mightyenas turned tail and ran yelping back into the hallway, all of the grunts scrambling head over heels after them until Tabitha and his new prehistoric Pokemon were the only ones left in the room.  
  


“Okay, Aerodactyl! It’s just you and me…”  
  


Careful not to make any hasty movements, Tabitha kept his eyes locked up on the monster looming overhead and slowly opened a drawer from within the machine, reaching his hand inside until his fingers closed around a spherical shape.  
  


“You and me…together…”  
  


The Aerodactyl gave a low growl in response that vibrated through the tile, watching cautiously as Tabitha withdrew an Ultra Ball.  
  


“Shhh, shhh, shhh…it’s okay, I’m not going to cause you any harm…”  
  


Admittedly, Tabitha had never actually _caught_ his own Pokemon before. As far as he knew, all it required was simply pitching a ball and waiting for the monster inside to seal itself in. This time, he hoped his gut feeling was right as he steadied himself and threw all of his weight into his toss.  
  


The Aerodactyl swatted the Ultra Ball away with its tail, sending it flying across the room to land on the opposite wall with a sharp crack and snapping it in two.  
  


Tabitha gulped, standing stone-still before the monster, not even daring to breathe.  
  


“N-no Pokeball? That’s okay, you’ll be like Skitty…ahyahya…”  
  


_**SKRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!** _   


Aerodactyl opened its jaws wide with a shrieking cry and leapt from its perch on the platform, jolting Tabitha into action. He slid out of the way as the massive Pokemon smashed through the outer wall, tearing through chunks of machinery and debris with ease.  
  


It was looking to escape the facility, even if it meant gutting the entire floor.  
  


Tabitha wanted to scream. So, he did, louder and longer than he ever had in his life.  
  


_What have I done!? WHAT HAVE I DONE!?_   


There was only one way to remedy this: he would have to trap the giant Pokemon before it caused any more damage.  
  


A more concrete plan would need to be brainstormed later. For now, Tabitha mustered up every last bit of courage he had and chased after the Aerodactyl, pushing through what remained of the automatic door and into the hallway.

 

 

Whatever scientists and Team Aqua grunts were still duking it out in the halls stopped mid-battle and scattered once they caught sight of the giant purple reptile rampaging their way. It paused every so often to gain its bearings, searching for a way out of the maze of tile corridors, and it was during one of these pauses that Tabitha finally caught up, if only for a split second. He leapt onto the Pokemon’s writhing tail in an attempt to distract it, but this only angered the feral dinosaur even more and it spurred onward in a mad dash, crushing everything in its path—doors, furniture, heavy machinery, nothing was safe from the wrath of an Aerodactyl. All the while, Tabitha straddled its forked tail, trying to endure being pummeled into the walls.  
  


It was not long before the sound of shattering glass rung out around him as the beast burst through the great windows into the open air, spreading its wings to take to the skies with its unwilling passenger in tow.

 

 

There was nothing Tabitha regret more than stealing a peek down at the city hundreds of feet below his dangling legs.

 

 

His screams seemed to echo through the streets of Rustboro City itself, alerting people walking around to look to the sky and cry out in shock. Some of the students of the Trainer’s School rose from their desks to gather excitedly at the windows, pressing their faces in the panes. Cars stopped in the roads, their drivers fixated on the large shadow of a flying Pokemon soaring overhead. It was diving down, down, drawing nearer with each passing second.  
  


Fighting vertigo, Tabitha clung for dear life onto the Aerodactyl’s tail, squeezing his eyes shut so that he would never have to witness the freefall he knew would eventually happen. His fingers had already begun to slip from the purple scales.  
  


His stomach lurched as Aerodactyl divebombed to the ground in a shower of stone bricks, flinging his ragdoll body away with a furious screech.  
  


For a few precious moments, Tabitha felt weightless.  
  


_Am I falling now?  
  
_

_How much longer until I hit the pavement?  
  
_

_I still have so much left to do...!_   


But, instead of cold, hard cement, Tabitha landed on something much more soft that cushioned his fall.  
  


A woman shrieked somewhere nearby. He could feel someone’s nails digging into his shoulder, prying him away.  
  


“President Stone, are you all right?!”  
  


Tabitha slowly cracked his eyelids open. The good news was that he was still very much alive. However, the bad news was that he lie sprawled on the ground, right beside the crumpled form of his company president.  
  


Several Devon employees circled around to attend to the old man, speaking in tones too hushed for their coworker to hear. It wasn’t long before newscasters and members of the press flocked to join them at his side. “This just in, folks! Mr. Stone, president of the Devon Corporation, has just been knocked unconscious by a mysterious man who fell out of the sky! He came riding in on the tail of an Aerodactyl, which is proceeding to destroy a nearby coffee shop at this very moment! Several trainers are attempting to capture it as we speak.”  
  


The world around Tabitha moved in a blur of motion, color, and sound. The media swarmed him with camera lenses and microphones, but he could not bring himself to say a single word. High above, he could see firefighters and emergency responders that had already reached the wreckage of the 6th floor. Police evacuated the area with flashing lights and blaring sirens. Masses of people young and old poured out from the surrounding buildings, running for the shelter of the train station. Once it had finished razing the coffee shop, the Aerodactyl moved on to wreak havoc on a convenience store and finally a clothing retailer before one of Devon’s scientists managed to capture it with the help of her trusty Golem.  
  


A pair of leather loafers blocked Tabitha’s field of vision. He swallowed hard—he knew exactly who they belonged to.  
  


“Consider yourself a former member of the Devon Corporation, Mr. Homura.”  
  


His boss lowered to his knees to look Tabitha dead in the eyes, his grave expression speaking on behalf of all of the reprimands he was holding back.  
  


The next three words he spoke struck fear into Tabitha’s very soul.

 

 

“You are fired.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

They stood crowded around a saggy, well-loved couch, watching the evening news. On practically every channel, there was a story about the afternoon’s catastrophic events and the aftermath that followed.  
  


“Oh holy shit! Do you even SEE this? _Look_! Look at the screen! We’re all over the news now, because _you all_ couldn’t stick to the plan! All the Boss wanted us to do was sneak, keyword: _sneak,_ into the Devon Corporation and steal a few prototypes from the safe room. What part of that did you numbskulls not understand?!”  
  


 

 

“But the scientists in the elevator was onta us! We had to think’a somethin’ on the spot!”  
  


“You’re the one who blew our cover, Phil!”  
  


“Nu-uh, Jill! You’re the one who suggested we attack the scientists who got in our way!”  
  


“I did NOT say ‘attack’, I said ‘intimidate’! There’s an awful big diff’rence there, bro!”  
  


“Quit your bickering! I told you _exactly_ where to find them. _EXACTLY_. Down to the very door you had to open! But, did any of you listen to me, your _Admin_?”

  
“We’re sorry, Miss Shelly.”  
  


“All’a us…"  
  


“Well, sorry ain’t gonna cut it. Let’s see here, shall we? Because of _each and every one of you_ , Team Aqua is now responsible for injuring dozens of innocents, costing hundreds of thousands, possibly MILLIONS of Pokedollars in damages, and destroying a handful of local businesses. Ugh, you are _so_ lucky that nobody died because of your reckless behavior!”  
  


“Sorry, Miss Shelly…”

 

 

“If that’s all you have to say to me, then get the hell outta my sight."  
  


Once the crowd of grunts had filed out of the room, Shelly turned her attention back to the television, her angry eyes softening at the sight of a familiar face on the screen. She dug into the confines of her pocket and whipped out her PokeNav.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

5:00 AM.  
  


Tabitha awoke to the buzz of his PokeNav’s alarm, only to find several text messages waiting for him.

 

 

That’s right. Shelly had not been at work, so she had missed the disaster that was yesterday.

 

 

_Great, now I’ve gained notoriety,_ Tabitha mused.

 

 

With that, he rolled out of bed and continued on with his morning routine. This time, when he stood before the bathroom mirror clad in his business suit, he stared at his reflection for a few extra seconds, deep in thought.  
  


_“Fired”, he said! Well, you can’t make a conviction like that without informing the accused of all the charges against them, especially when said accused has kissed your ass for the past few years!  
  
_

_Let’s see what old Mr. Yamada has to say to me when I show up knocking at his door._

 

 

 

 

 

Shelly was able to pick out Tabitha’s broad shoulders from the crowd with relative ease as he made his way to the rendezvous at the statue. What she had also been able to see from several yards away was the stoic expression he wore.  
  
  
“Okay Tabs, you’ve got some explaining to do. What the hell happened yesterday?”  
  


Tabitha struggled to find the right combination of words, but ultimately settled on the easiest explanation. “Long story short, because of everything you saw on television, I got fired yesterday.”  
  


“ _WHAT!?_ ” Shelly’s eyes grew wide.  
  


“To be honest, I’m not surprised considering I caused at least half of the problems with my hasty actions, but it didn’t make hearing that verdict any less difficult.” Tabitha sheepishly toyed with his tie. “I’m going in today to try and speak with Mr. Yamada because I want to convince him to reverse his judgment. I’m not willing to sit back and accept my fate and watch everything I’ve worked so hard for be seized from me.”  
  


“I’m around you way more than that wrinkled raisin is and I _KNOW_ you’d never do something without thinking twice about it first. Surely you had a reason for acting the way that you did…!”  
  


Tabitha looked to the sky to avoid the furious storm brewing in Shelly’s eyes. The clouds overhead threatened rain.  
  


“I don’t know if it could have been better or worse had I acted differently, Shelly. I wanted to protect myself, and in the process ended up doing precisely the opposite.” He began to walk, beckoning his friend onward. “It is what it is and all I can do now is try to appeal to him.”  
  


“I can’t believe that scumbag, firing you over self-defense!” Shelly spat.  
  


Tabitha couldn’t recall ever seeing his coworker, normally so cool and collected, so genuinely ruffled up. “I hope you’re feeling better, at least."  


“Not after what you just told me.”  
  


“Well, that makes two of us, doesn’t it?”

 

 

 

 

 

They stood together outside the door to Mr. Yamada’s office and whispered to each other in hushed tones, neither one of them wanting to make that critical move to open it.  
  


Shelly smoothed out Tabitha’s suit in an attempt to make him even more presentable than he already was. A clever tactic to stall for time. “Hold your tongue, Tabs. I know you have a tendency to be trigger-happy when you’re upset.”  
  


If there was one thing that irritated him about Shelly, it was when she seemed to nag at him just like his mother, but he knew she had only good intentions. “I, Tabitha, am 22 years old. I’m fully aware that I’m walking on eggshells here.”  
  


“I just wanna make sure ‘cuz I can’t go in with you, so if you heck up, you’re on your own. But know I’ll be sitting out here waiting, cheering you on from the sidelines.”  
  


Shelly’s pep talk managed to coax a small smile out of Tabitha and she flashed him an even brighter one in return.  
  


“Now go sic ‘im, big boy.”  
  


She gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder, urging him onward toward the door. But, when he closed his fingers around the cold, cold handle, he paused in hesitation, staring up at his boss’s name engraved in sharp lines on the gold plaque above. Hypotheticals began to run rampant through his mind.  
  


“We only got so long before the morning meeting, y’know.” Shelly reminded.  
  


“I know, I know. I was just thinking, is all.”  
  


Finally, Tabitha sucked in a deep breath and mustered up enough courage to push himself through.  
  


No turning back now.  
  


Once he had closed the door behind him, Shelly leaned in carefully, pressing an ear against the wood to listen to the voices within.

 

 

 

 

“Mr. Homura. I am surprised to see you here this morning.”  
  


Tabitha heard the low, monotone voice of his boss before he even had a chance to face him. Evident in his blush, he had been caught off-guard. “Ahyahya, what can I say? I’m married to my work, sir.”  
  


Mr. Yamada was not impressed. He sat behind a large stone desk on the other end of the office, his chin resting on folded hands. “I would wager that you are here to discuss the events of yesterday afternoon.”  
  


“Yes, sir.”  
  


The elderly man gave a quick glance at his wristwatch. “You have ten minutes to make your case. Sit.”  
  


The walk to the chair seemed a mile and with each footstep, Tabitha began to mentally pen a speech. Anything that came out of his mouth in the next ten minutes could and would be used against him and he had to keep reminding himself that this was his one opportunity to win back everything he had lost.  
  


_Go sic ‘im, big boy.  
  
_

As he sat down in the chair, the plastic dug into his back with a loud creaking sound.  
  


Mr. Yamada waited in silence, his cold eyes boring holes into the researcher’s very soul.  
  


“Firstly, I cannot tell you how truly, truly, truly sorry I am about the situation. I did not intend for my actions to cause so much damage not only for the Devon Corporation and its respected employees, but for the city of Rustboro as well.”  
  


Tabitha’s throat was bone dry, yet he spoke sincerely.  
  


“I have done much reflection overnight and I realize that my interest may have seemed selfish at first. I revived a fossil because I did not have a Pokemon and wished to defend myself against Team Aqua. But, also consider that I frightened them away before they could have stolen any of our precious technology and, by extension, I protected not only myself, but the integrity of our great Devon.”  
  


His hands began to tremble, but he stuck them in his suit pockets so his superior would not notice.  
  


“I feel I have made worthy contributions to our company in my research and I feel I can continue to serve Devon in my fullest capacity and help us pursue our ultimate goal of technological innovation…if you allow it. I am truly, truly, truly sorry.”  
  


He folded himself in an apologetic bow until he found himself staring at his polished shoes.  
  


Sweat beaded on Tabitha’s forehead.  
  


Finally, Mr. Yamada shifted, pulling out a stack of papers from the top drawer. Even from the other side of the desk, Tabitha could tell by the size of the font they had been printed in that they were legal documents.  
  


“Mere apologies cannot repair machinery from a pile of ashes, resurrect buildings reduced to rubble, or heal broken bones, Mr. Homura.” Mr. Yamada pushed the stack across the desk, gesturing for Tabitha to read. “But, I _can_ tell you how you can assist with cleaning up this mess.”  
  


His boss continued on.  
  


“The Devon Corporation seeks monetary compensation for all of the damages that have been caused, but luckily for you, insurance will cover the reconstruction of the 6th floor as Team Aqua’s infiltration can be pinned as an act of terrorism. However…are you aware that your little act of “self-defense” had President Stone hospitalized for a fractured pelvis, three broken ribs, and a broken arm?"  


Tabitha shook his head, squinting at the pages in his hands to avoid the icy glare of his superior. “No, sir.”  
  


“President Stone’s health insurance refuses to completely cover his rehabilitation because he was not directly affected by the hijacking of our corporation. This is where we request your assistance, Mr. Homura.”  
  


Mr. Yamada leaned over to point out a page that had been marked with a post-it note.  
  


“By paying restitution for his hospital bill, then the forgiving President Stone, on behalf of the Devon Corporation, will not seek litigation against you for yesterday’s incident.”  
  


When he removed the page in question, Tabitha tried desperately to hide his shock at the five-figure numbers printed on the paper, but he could not willingly bring blood back into his sheet white face. There was no way he would be able to pay for such an astronomical sum on his meager salary.  
  


“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think it’s reasonable to request this of me.”  
  


Apparently, Mr. Yamada did not like his attempt to push back. He cleared his throat and, with a bony finger, pointed to each outlined cost, his sharp nail creating a small crease in the paper.  
  


“We are withholding your final paycheck and putting it toward this payment, so if you subtract that amount, you should find the number slightly more reasonable--”  
  


“Except it’s still not reasonable. And it’s never going to be.” Tabitha’s once polite, submissive voice grew firm and resolute. “I’ve worked so hard all these years and underwent intensive research on such meager pay. Are _you_ aware of the sacrifices that I make every day for the good of the Devon Corporation?”  
  


Mr. Yamada’s expression hardened, his voice rising to compete with that of his employee. “Perhaps _you_ are the unaware one, Mr. Homura. When we account for the cost of everything that we at Devon provide to you including but certainly not limited to necessities such as health insurance, a discounted train fare for your route to work, and a laptop and any required tools and supplies with which to conduct research, your salary should be more than sufficient enough to support you. Your colleagues seem to agree, so why are you the only one who seems unsatisfied?”  
  


Tabitha rose from his seat and dropped the weighty stack of papers onto the desk with a loud _thunk_ , his ruby red eyes locked squarely on to his boss. Anger burned within them.  
  


 

 

“That’s because nobody would ever dare stare their superior dead in the eyes and voice their dissent, so they keep their opinions to themselves for the sake of job security.”  
  


“The stake that sticks out gets hammered down, Mr. Homura.” Somehow, Mr. Yamada retained his calm, collected professional air, but Tabitha could feel the tension with every word he said.  
  


“Assume that I comply and pay this hospital bill, then. Surely the other businesses affected by the Aerodactyl rampage are seeking ‘monetary compensation’ too. They’re going to sue Devon and then you’re going to turn around and sue me, despite the fact that after this I’ll barely have anything to my name. Precisely what are you going to accomplish by milking me for every cent I own, and then for every cent I don’t have? I can’t give you what I haven’t earned!”  
  


Tabitha’s fiery temper had gotten the best of him. Little did he know that Shelly could hear his shouts from the other side of the door, and little did he know that she was muttering curses under her breath because of it, even though she agreed with every word he said.  
  


Even behind the glass panes of Mr. Yamada’s wire frames, he could make out his boss’s death stare. “You are going to need to find a new job to cover such expenses, Mr. Homura, and it is not the responsibility of the Devon Corporation to assist you in that endeavor.” In one swift motion, he tore the bottom sheet of paper from underneath the stack and adjusted his glasses, reading off what had been typed for eternal documentation.  
  


“Tabitha Homura, you are officially dismissed from the Devon Corporation for the following violations: destruction of company property, disturbance of the peace, entering unauthorized areas, unauthorized use of machinery, for the theft of a fossil from President Stone’s personal collection, and newly, for exhibiting outrageous behavior in the presence of superiority.”  
  


But Tabitha had already made his way to the door halfway through the list, slamming it shut behind him.  
  


Shelly didn’t need to ask him how it went—she could see the aftermath written in the redness of his cheeks and the fire in his eyes.  
  


“I’m going home, Shelly. Devon won’t take me back, especially not after what I just said in there.” He spat, storming off toward the elevator before she even had a chance to talk.  
  


“Tabs, wait!”  
  


She reached out to grab his shoulder, stopping him mid-stride, but once she had his undivided attention, Shelly hesitated. She paused, grasping for new words to say after releasing her initial thought as if it had been a balloon in the wind.  
  


“…we’ll talk later. You need some time to cool off.”  
  


Shelly slung her arm around him and escorted her friend to the elevator, the two of them watching each other until the metal doors swallowed Tabitha up and stole her gaze away.

 

 

 

 

 

The moment he stepped outside of the Devon Corporation, it began to pour.  
  


Tabitha sifted through the contents of his briefcase to retrieve his pocket umbrella, only to notice that his PokeNav was vibrating. He pulled it from his suit pocket and checked the screen.  
  


Three missed calls. All of them from his parents. He dialed them up as he walked, hearing his mother’s frantic voice come on the other end of the line.  
  


“Tabi, oh thank goodness you’re all right! Your father and I have been trying to reach you since last night after we saw you on Channel Nine! We’re selling some of the livestock to catch a bus ride over there…”  
  


“I apologize if I worried you, but don’t trouble yourselves over coming to visit me. You know as well as I do that you need the animals, especially at this time of year. I assure you I’m all right. A little banged up, but nothing major…certainly nothing that would warrant a hospital stay or anything of that sort.” Tabitha found himself detouring toward a nearby convenience store, his stomach winning out over his mind once again. He crept inside, approaching the counter to order three steamed pork buns.  
  


“No, we insist.”  
  


Tabitha rolled his eyes. His mother could be so persistent. Just like Shelly.  
  


The teenage employee behind the register shot him a worried glance as Tabitha slid him some coins and snatched the plastic bag from his hands. “And _I_ insist that you stay home. Work is extremely demanding, Mother!”  
  


“Tabi, you’re being illogical.”  
  


When he returned to the streets, passersby stared as they hurried along, captivated by how unaware he was of his rising voice. “No, I’m being economical. I don’t have enough space for the both of you to stay in my apartment, so where will you go? Will you rent a hotel room? That’s more money to spend that you don’t have!”  
  


“What’s wrong, dear? You sound so cranky.”  
  


“I’m sorry. I’m still sore from yesterday. I’ll take some aspirin when I get home from work.” Tabitha rubbed his head—all this stress had given him a nasty headache, and it was barely after 8 AM.  
  


His mother clucked her tongue in disapproval. “You’re always taking aspirin, dear. You could get an ulcer, you know.”  
  


“Mother, I don’t take it as often as you think I do.” He lied. “Anyway, my boss is coming in so I need to get back to work. Goodbye.”  
  


Tabitha hung up just as he reached the entrance to Rustboro Station, for he didn’t want her to hear the squeals of the trains echoing from down below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tabitha loosed an irritated sigh and exited the train at the next stop to cross the platform and wait for a new one to arrive that would shuttle him back the way he had come.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She sat across from him, the flickering flame from the oil lamp between them casting dancing light upon her face. He noticed right away that she had kept the bun pinned in her hair from work.  
  


Despite the fact that the establishment was filled to the brim with other patrons, the room was strangely quiet. People still conversed in hushed tones, but the mood was nothing like the bar Shelly had taken them to mere days ago. It was upscale, formal, and unfamiliar.  
  


Tabitha had never been to a restaurant that had so many different utensils. Why use three types of forks when one was plenty sufficient to do the job? He hadn’t even known to fold his napkin in his lap until the waitress came by, her voice thick with Kalos accent, and discreetly did the job for him.  
  


But Tabitha had noticed and his cheeks flushed hotly with embarrassment.  
  


He glanced around the room at the other guests and felt wildly out of place. There they sat, the two of them still dressed in their business attire (not like he had anything nicer to wear anyway!), while the majority of the people dining tonight wore blouses, brand name handbags, tuxedos, and so much jewelry that their fingers and wrists seemed to twinkle like stars.  
  


“You okay, Tabs?”  
  


Noticing he seemed uncomfortable, Shelly snapped him stuttering back to reality.  
  


“W-well, this is all so…ostentatious…I’m a bit overwhelmed. It’s humorous to think that I, the son of a farmer and a construction worker, am somehow sitting here among Rustboro’s elite.”  
  


“There’s a first time for everything.” Shelly said, taking a sip of red wine.  
  


“Look, there aren’t even any prices listed here!” Tabitha scanned the menu, unable to even envision what some of the dishes looked like. Hell, he could hardly _pronounce_ half of them. “How does this possibly accomplish anything? What is the purpose of paying for the privilege of eating this high-class cuisine if you cannot even know what you’re paying for it?”  
  


“Because the clientele isn’t worried about how much it costs, and neither am I.” Shelly replied, turning to the waitress who had since returned with pen in hand. “Uh, yeah, I’m gonna have the _coq au vin_ …what about you, Tabs?”  
  


“I mean…the… _’cass-oh-let’_ sounds pretty palatable.”  
  


The waitress jotted their orders down and vanished just as quickly as she had appeared.  
  


“Yamada can’t possibly be paying you enough to afford this.” Tabitha snorted.  
  


An amused spark alighted in Shelly’s eyes. “He’s not. I quit today.”  
  


Her friend stared at her for a few moments, blinking back disbelief.  
  


“How could you do that?”  
  


“Do what?”  
  


“Look at you, Shelly! You think you can just throw your cash frivolously to the wind, without a care in the world, and now you don’t even have a job to support yourself?! That’s so incredibly wasteful.” He sat back in his chair with a grunt and stared at the other end of the room, bothered.  
  


“One: I do have a new job waiting for me. I’m going to work full-time for a good pal of mine in Lilycove where we’re doing oceanic research. Unfortunately, not your line of work. And two: remember, I’ve worked for Devon much longer than you have. Believe me, there was a time years ago when I was in your shoes, and it wasn’t glamorous.”  
  


Shelly leaned forward, trying to meet his gaze. “But, I got through it, reached Yamada’s second-in-command, and started pocketing cash. You could have maybe done the same if you didn’t completely blow your top with your apology. You need to work on that nasty temper of yours, Tabs.”  
  


Judging by the tenseness in his tone, Tabitha didn't find her playful prodding humorous at all. “Ahya…you know what absolutely drives me up a wall about you, Shelly? How the hell can you be so composed when you’re faced with adversity? How can you just stand by and watch Yamada completely castigate all of the research you spent hours upon hours collecting, and then when he tells you to redo it, why don’t you ever object? How can you possibly allow him to dictate every miniscule decision you make?”  
  


His rising voice began to capture the attention of the patrons sitting around them. “How can _nothing_ perturb you?!”  
  


Shelly brought a finger to her lips in an attempt to bring his words back down to a whisper. “Oh, because, I don’t know, I like to keep a level head for my own job security, clearly something that you should work on.”  
  


“ _Passivity_ only allows people to take advantage of you!"  
  
  
“Hey, take it down a notch! I’m on your side here, Tabs! Why do you always push people away when they try to help you?”  
  


Tabitha didn’t budge, even as the waitress returned and set the steaming plate of meat casserole down in front of him.  
  


“I don’t need someone to pick me up when I’ve fallen down, Shelly. That is what children do, and I’m not a child any longer. I, Tabitha, am an _adult_ , and I’m the only person who can carve my own path in life. I got myself into this mess and I’ll get myself out of it. _Myself_."  
  
  
Shelly couldn’t help but gawk at the massive scene Tabitha was making. To keep herself calm, she dug her fork into the stew before her and shoveled a few pieces into her mouth, letting the thick creaminess of the sauce pacify her stormy mind.  
  


“To set right the wrongs you’ve done, without running away in fear, is how an adult accepts responsibility.” She pointed the empty end of her fork at him accusingly. “You’re sticking your head in the sand, trying to ignore the bigass mess you’ve caused, and now you think you can just move on like nothing ever happened, and that’s what makes you a _child_ , Tabitha. It’s about time you grew up and learned to roll with the pitches that life throws at you.”  
  


Tabitha slammed his fists upon the table and the loud crack that sounded turned the entire restaurant dead quiet. Fellow patrons, waiters, waitresses, all eyes fell upon the two of them, seated in the very center of the room.  
  


 

His shouts were the only thing to shatter the silence. “Shelly, I don’t need your _fucking_ advice!!”  
  


Somewhere, a man gasped. A mother leaned over to cover her young child’s ears.  
  
  
For several moments, Shelly did not know what to say because she couldn’t fully process what was happening. Her best friend, her BFF, was sitting across from her all worked up, hyperventilating over nothing more than good-natured criticism. Intense, seething anger burned in those ruby eyes of his, the brightest red that she had ever seen.  
  


It all felt like some kind of nonsensical nightmare, but it was real, so very real.  
  


Amazingly, Shelly kept her composure with a nonchalant shrug in response.  
  


“All right, Tabs. Suit yourself. If you want to be an ‘adult’, you can navigate this cruel world by yourself and if something goes wrong, then I’ll respect your wishes and leave you to figure it out on your own. After all, you’re an engineer—solving practical problems is your expertise.”  
  


With an irritated snort, Tabitha abruptly rose from his seat and stormed off toward the front of the establishment without another word, leaving Shelly and his untouched plate of _cassoulet_ behind.  
  


Once he slammed the door, the restaurant returned to its quiet hum as if the incident never happened.  
  


Shelly eyed the casserole and then glanced to the empty seat behind it. Hot steam still rose from the medley of meats and beans, the liquid bubbling around them.  
  


Well, she was going to pay for it anyway, so she might as well steal a bite before it cooled.  
  


She raised her fork and leaned over the table, reaching for the nearest slice of slow-cooked pork…

 

 

 

 

 

…until Tabitha burst through door, marched back up to the table, and lifted the hot bowl away, all the while avoiding eye contact with her dumbfounded expression.  
  


“And I shall take this to-go because _I’m_ not _wasteful_ , thank you very much.”  
  


He turned his nose up at her and scurried out the door again, his free dinner in tow.

 

 

"C'mon, what the hell was _that_ about?"


	6. Chapter 6

Tabitha had difficulty comprehending how easily money could slip through his fingers with the click of a mouse.  
  


He watched the numbers on the screen shrink with a sigh, retrieving a notepad and pencil from the desk drawer to calculate a new budget off of the amount that remained.  
  


_Mr. Stone had better be gracious and not find another reason to sue me._   


Now, he didn’t even have enough savings to cover the month’s rent, and he wasn’t fully certain the landlady would permit him an extension, though he would ask.  
  


He glanced at the clock nestled in the lower corner of the screen.  
  


9:12 AM.  
  


He had slept in today, a Wednesday. It felt _amazing._ No longer did he have to wake up before sunrise and wedge himself into the rush hour train. Had he still worked for Devon, he would be in the midst of the morning meeting right now, listening to Mr. Yamada drone on about the company’s fiscal situation or harping about research project deadlines. He’d have to listen to Shelly berate him again.  
  


Good riddance. He’d be waiting for his PokeNav to buzz with a notification from Shelly apologizing for the night before, but Tabitha was not privy to a simple “sorry”; he’d make her beg for his forgiveness for staining his pride.  
  


There were plenty of positives to come with being unemployed, but one single negative outweighed them all: he wasn’t earning any money.  
  


That fact was what prompted him to close his laptop and get on with his usual morning routine, making himself look presentable enough in his suit for potential interviews.  
  


Skitty bounded after him into the bathroom, nuzzling his ankles for attention until her master finally knelt down to scratch her behind the ears.  
  


“Mother’s always said that it was a stroke of luck to find you, Skitty. Maybe you’ll share some of that good fortune with me?”  
  


She mewed in response.  
  


“That’s a good girl.” Tabitha retreated into his room to pick up his briefcase, stuffed to the brim with a stack of fresh resumes, and stepped outside into the light morning rain.  
  


Skitty sat by the front door and waited for it to open again.

 

 

 

 

 

The first stop on his journey was the construction company owned by the man who called himself “Cutter”. He had been responsible for much of Rustboro’s expansion and Tabitha knew that his latest project involving Rusturf Tunnel was said to be his most ambitious yet. Maybe he could use the assistance of a mechanical engineer.  
  


He approached the door to the Cutter’s home, giving it precisely three knocks. A short, balding man wearing a sweatband around his forehead opened it.

 

Tabitha cleared his throat politely. “Hello there, sir! Is the Cutter available to chat for a few minutes?”  
  


“I’m Cutter. Whaddya want?” the man grunted.  
  


“My name is Tabitha Homura. I’m a graduate of Nazonokusa University specializing in mechanical engineering. I was wondering if I could speak with you—“  
  


“Hey, ain’tcha the kamikaze who divebombed the city on an Aerodactyl?” Cutter interrupted, scrutinizing his company.  
  


Tabitha stared at the bottle of sake gripped in the man’s hand. “No no, perhaps you have me mistaken for someone else.”  
  


“Nah, yer ring names a bell…Oh! How could I forget those broad shoulders from the headlines?”  
  


Tabitha quickly changed the subject. “I’ve heard you and your company are looking to expand Rusturf Tunnel with a road. If that is the case, would you like some assistance with that?”  
  


Cutter suddenly burst out into raucous laughter.  
  


“Oh sonny! This is the future—I don’t be needin’ any prehistoric Pokemon to clear the tunnel like in them cartoons!”  
  


“I…see. I apologize for wasting your time.” Tabitha shied away, blushing out of embarrassment, and continued on his way, hearing the man’s guffaws echo down the lane.

 

 

 

 

 

Next, Tabitha stopped at Rustboro Station, inquiring about any open positions in construction or transportation. The stationmaster politely declined, citing full positions.  
  


After that, he tried the Pokemon Trainer’s School as a science instructor, but he did not have the right credentials—teaching required certification, which required testing money.  
  


He entered the Pokemon Gym, only to discover that Roxanne had recently hired a contractor to renovate her building, inside and out.  
  


Night fell. Despite the fact that he was dressed ready for an interview, he headed home with a briefcase full of resumes, a mind full of doubt, and a PokeNav devoid of messages.

 

 

 

 

 

The next week played out much the same, with Tabitha leaving his apartment after rush hour in the morning and returning after dark with his briefcase only slightly lighter, if he had been particularly lucky with handing out his resumes.  
  


When he had exhausted his options for higher paying jobs, Tabitha began to comb the city of its lower wage positions, visiting countless convenience stores, retail shops, and restaurants. However, he was met with much the same reactions: no openings, no qualifications, no desire to employ someone so “careless” and “dangerous”. No matter where he went, everybody seemed to know of him from the newspaper or what had been broadcasted on television a couple nights before.  
  


Then, with Christmas only a few days away, Tabitha finally came across somebody willing to give him a chance at Rustboro Mall.

 

 

“My, this is quite an impressive resume, Mr. Homura….” the thin, mousy manager clicked her tongue, adjusting her round spectacles to scan the paper.

 

“I appreciate you taking the time to review it.” Tabitha gave her an appreciative bow, trying not to shake from his mounting excitement.  
  


“Though, we are not currently looking for somebody to design the New Year’s displays. The company we order the lights from hangs them for us.”  
  


Tabitha felt his hopes deflate. “Oh."  
  


Yet, the elderly woman had a twinkle in her eye as she looked him over, seeming to envision something. “However…we have been searching for the perfect Santa Claus for Friday’s festivities. My, your physique is the spitting image of old Saint Nick, isn’t it? Rosy red cheeks, a warm, gentle grin, why, you’ve even got the plump belly.”  


“Indeed I do...” This was clearly not the type of job he was expecting to pursue.  
  


“Why don’t you give me your best impression of a hearty chuckle, Santa?” the manager winked, jabbing him in the side with an elbow.  
  


“Ah..hya…”  


_How degrading._   
  


“A bit louder, dearie.”  


_Well, at least it’s money._   
  


Tabitha threw back his head and laughed so loudly that he was certain the entire mall heard him.  
  


“ _AHYAHYAHYA! MERRY CHRISTMAS!_ ”  
  


The manager applauded, bouncing up and down as if she were several years younger.  
  


“Oh, _astounding_ , my dear! I will speak with the holiday coordinator and give you a call tomorrow.”  
  


They exchanged business cards, shook hands, and Tabitha left with mixed feelings. At least he had a temporary source of income and a connection, even though his pride had taken a hit.  
  


He sat down at a nearby café to purchase a congratulatory green tea and immediately texted Shelly.

 

But Shelly never responded.

 

 

 

 

 

Tabitha returned home to his apartment to find a piece of paper taped to the front door.  
  


He was about to dismiss it as some type of holiday advertisement when the bolded typeface caught his eye:

 

 

In that very moment, Tabitha’s world spun to a standstill.  
  


He read the words once, twice, three times, hoping desperately their letters would somehow rearrange themselves differently. He tore the paper off the door and stomped over to the nearest lamp to make sure that the words had not been obscured by the darkness, yet they remained the same. His mind searched for an explanation that he already feared he knew—he had not had the funds to make his November payment and had begged the landlady to permit him another month to earn it, and now he owed her for two. According to the note, “immediately”.  
  


Tabitha stormed downstairs to the landlady’s apartment, trying hard to restrain himself from knocking too hard and too frequently.  
  


“Ms. Larue! Ms. Larue, please open up! It’s urgent!”  
  


After a few grueling moments, the door opened to reveal a beautiful blonde middle-aged woman from Kalos. Unfortunately, all the tenants agreed that she had a less-than-beautiful demeanor.  


 

“Mr. Homura, it is half past ten at night.” she growled, glaring at him with the intensity of a Talonflame eyeing its prey.  
  


“I know, and I apologize dearly.” Tabitha bowed. “But I must speak with you about the note you left on my door.”  
  


Ms. Larue crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe so that her tenant could clearly see that she was in her nightgown. “You can read it, no?”  
  


“I can and I did.”  
  


“Well then, what’s the problem?”  
  


Tabitha tugged at the collar of his suit. “I…I need a second extension, ma’am.”  
  


The landlady said nothing, letting her icy stare do the talking for her until her tenant continued.  
  


“I’m getting a call tomorrow about a new job opportunity. It’s difficult to admit this, ma’am, but I…I lost my job recently. I promise I will have the money to you, in cash, on my next pay-day.”  
  


“And when, praytell, is that?” Ms. Larue asked.  
  


“I cannot give you an exact date as of this moment—“  
  


“Why not?”  
  


“Those details are to be discussed in my phonecall tomorrow. But, I beg you, please grant me another opportunity to get my life back in order. I do not even have enough money to take a train all the way home to Lavaridge.” Tabitha dropped to his knees in the most sincere and desperate of bows, but his gesture was lost in translation. “Where will I go, if not here?”  
  


Ms. Larue flicked the ashes from her cigarette in his general direction. “Mr. Homura, it is none of my concern where you will go. You are an adult and you must find a way to solve your own issues.” She straightened, matter-of-factly. “I rely on the rent of my tenants to pay my own bills, so by wishing for _another_ extension, you are pulling me into your problem.”  
  


Tabitha groped for another excuse. “It’s the holidays, ma’am. Please, just give me tomorrow afternoon. I won’t even wait for the call, I will reach out to my manager myself, and I can even do it in your presence.” He looked up at her from the cobblestone tile, cupping his hands in plea.  


Finally, Ms. Larue took a long drag on her cigarette. “See you tomorrow at 2:30, and not a minute later.”  
  


The door slammed inches in front of Tabitha’s face.

 

 

 

 

 

Ms. Larue’s cigarette butt lie on the ground exactly where it had landed the night before. Tabitha kept crushing it under his feet as he paced nervously back and forth downstairs under the strict gaze of the landlady, who watched him dial the PokeNav with interest.  
  


“Hello? Is Ms. Ueda there? Yes, good afternoon, this is Tabitha Homura speaking…” he gave an anxious glance toward Ms. Larue, who pursed her lip in return.  
  


“I’m calling about that holiday position we discussed yesterday. When should I head up there?..............oh.”  
  


Tabitha froze in place, his hands growing clammy.  
  


“I see. Well, Delibirds are quite rare in Hoenn, so I can understand why you would want to use one for your event instead.”  
  


On the other side, Ms. Ueda’s enthusiasm practically leaked from her voice. “Of course! People love Pokemon, don’t they? I heard that there was a trainer in town from Johto, and of course, I leapt at the chance. Have you SEEN a Delibird, Mr. Homura?”  
  


“Yes, yes, they _are_ cute…….”  
  


“Oh goodness, but have you SEEN one in a little Santa outfit? No, nobody has around these parts, which is why he’s going to be the NEXT big thing! Everyone will want to come to Rustboro Mall just to take pictures with him! Can you imagine the profits?” She rambled on and on.  
  


“Are you absolutely, _positively_ sure you don’t want a Santa? Can you imagine the profits you’d have with Santa _and_ a Delibird helper?"  
  


“But then, we would have to feed the Delibird AND you! I’m sorry dearie, it’s a bit expensive to have a human Santa comparatively, you know.”  
  


He tried not to take her comment personally. “I appreciate the opportunity--no need to apologize. Have a good day, then.”  
  


Tabitha hung up the PokeNav with a click, his back turned to the landlady, though he knew she could see right through him.

 

 

“It sounds like you will not be having a pay-day after all, no?” Ms. Larue chimed in.  
  


Tabitha shook his head.  
  


“My notice still stands, Mr. Homura. You have three days to move all of your belongings out of your apartment.”  
  


She watched as the man dragged himself to the stairs, resigned to his fate. It was a miracle that she even heard the affirmation he mumbled under his breath.  
  


“Yes ma’am.”

 

 

 

 

 

Shelly called him a couple days later, right in the midst of surveying the contents of the stacks of cardboard boxes piled around his room. Tabitha almost didn’t pick up the PokeNav, but curiosity got the best of him.  
  


“Hey,” she said.  
  


“Hey,” he replied.  
  


“How’s it goin’?”  
  


“It’s going I suppose.”  
  


“That’s good. You good?”  
  


“I’m at work right now. I’ve got customers.” Tabitha shrugged her off with more clipped responses, though Shelly was able to tell by the tone of his voice that something was amiss.  
  


“You sure don’t SOUND good right about now.”  
  


But Tabitha was insistent. “No no, everything is fine. I’m just being a _responsible adult_ and trying to _do my job_. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to continue being productive.”  
  


“But—“  


“Goodbye.”  
  


He hung up the phone before she even had a chance to protest, a dialtone greeting her on the other end of the line.  
  


_Ugh! He’s so impossible!!_   


All the way off the coast of Lilycove, deep within the the Aqua hideout, Shelly buried her head in her hands.  
  


“Skitty, I can’t tell her that! I can't tell Shelly I got replaced by a _fucking_ Delibird! I can’t tell her that I, Tabitha, was trumped by a Pokemon!” Tabitha cried, throwing his hands up in defeat.  
  


But Skitty just cocked her head, unable to understand a word of what her owner said.  


“Myau?”

 

 

 

 

 

That last night under a roof was long and full of difficult decisions.  
  


Tabitha did not sleep—instead, he spent several painstaking hours organizing the contents of his apartment into two categories: “necessary” and “unnecessary”.  
  


It had been quite a while since he had had time to tidy up the place, let alone go through all of his possessions. In a way, the whole process was therapeutic to him, a man of obsessive organization under normal circumstances.  
  


The items he deemed important he packed into the open briefcase on his bed. Tabitha undressed out of his suit to tuck it safely away and switched into a pair of black sweatpants and a well-worn hoodie bearing the Oddish logo of his alma-mater. His laptop, several loose resumes, and a blueprint for a drill that he was particularly proud of also found their way inside, though he reminded himself he needed extra space for some toiletries.  
  


When he returned from the bathroom with a handful of supplies, he couldn’t help but crack a smile when he found Skitty nesting inside the open briefcase, waiting for him.  
  


“Skitty, rest assured that I haven’t forgotten about you, but you won’t like it in there.” He lifted her and pat her head, setting her inside an empty box and out of the way.  
  


When space began to grow tight, Tabitha tucked the overflow away into a rolling suitcase. Devon had given it to him anticipating that he would be doing more traveling around the region, but he had never used it once. Funny how now it was being used to help him move out.  
  


Tabitha neatly folded the Torkoal bottoms, his favorite pair of pajamas, into the depths of the roller alongside the sweater that his mother had knit for him and several pairs of socks and humorous character boxers. He ripped the sheets and blanket from his bed and added them into the suitcase with his pillow. Somehow, there was still enough space remaining to fill with a few of the knick-knacks from his desk shelf, including a few figures of the Hoenn Rangers from his childhood. He wondered briefly if they were worth anything, but knew that collectors would pass up anything so well-loved that the paint had peeled from the plastic.  
  


Then, he noticed the photograph.  
  


It had been hidden behind a stack of research papers in the corner of his desk and Tabitha had neglected to see it until he had tossed them into the recycling bin, but when he saw it, he picked it up and stared at the faded photo for a long time. Memories from that day began to flood his mind.  
  


He could not have been more than 5 or 6 years old. His father’s construction helmet, much too big for his little head, teetered precariously over his face. Looking up at him bursting with laughter was his father clad in his work uniform, carrying him on his shoulders. The reflective tape from his shirt had caught the flash just right so that when the photo was taken, it was as if his family glowed. His mother wore a smile, though Tabitha could see the worry in her eyes as she looked at his younger self, probably concerned that he would topple over backwards, though he remembered that his father held him fast.  
  


 _His parents._ He knew they would grieve at his situation and would gladly welcome him with open arms back home, but he could not take the train to Lavaridge. Not now. Not until he found a job and earned some extra money. They had expressed interest in coming to see him, but at this time of year, Tabitha couldn’t allow them to sell their precious livestock just to earn enough for an outing to Rustboro. _It’s not just a train ticket_ , he reminded himself, _it’s train tickets for three people going both ways._  


Tabitha finished packing around 5 AM, when he resigned himself to a much-deserved nap.  
  


He did not wake up until the next afternoon.

 

 

 

 

 

For the first time since he had moved in, the apartment was bare.  
  


Admittedly, he had considered leaving the remainder of his belongings in the room out of spite, but surely whatever poor soul would get stuck renting his place would inherit the responsibility for cleaning it up, so he had dumped box after box underneath the covered recycling bins outside.  
  


For the last time, took one final look at the inside of his apartment, checking every nook and cranny for anything he may have missed, and closed the door.  
  


It was raining steadily, more than a drizzle but not quite a downpour. Tabitha tucked Skitty inside the warmth of his hoodie, but she resisted, poking her head out of the neck right underneath his chin.  
  


He descended the stairs to drop his keys in his mailbox, then started down the beaten path with briefcase in hand, rolling his suitcase behind him.  
  


It felt weird to walk the road to the station alone, almost as if he were playing hooky (which Tabitha had never done in all of his school career!). Rarely had it ever been so quiet--the only sound was the soft patter of rain against the fabric of his umbrella.  
  


He could get himself to the station, but where would he go after that? Rustboro was a given—he still had a discounted pass from work that would get him there cheap. But, where would he stay? He didn’t know anybody who lived anywhere nearby. In fact, he didn’t really know anybody other than _her._  


Tabitha fingered the PokeNav in his pocket.  
  


_Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose. Perhaps she’d let me borrow her moped so I could drive to Lavaridge._   


_I wonder if she’ll even forgive me for being such an imbecile._   


Swallowing his pride, he opened his PokeNav and dialed Shelly’s number, only to be greeted by an automated voice.

  **  
**

 

Of-fucking-course! His PokeNav was a company device, so it was only a matter of time before they discovered he was still using it.  
  


Tabitha whispered a curse to the wind and channeled his bottled anger into his wrist as he threw the PokeNav as hard as he could into the tangled grass lining the path, causing a cluster of hidden Taillow nearby to take to the sky squawking.  
  


“I just _can’t_ catch a break for a single moment, can I, Skitty?!”  
  


But Skitty had ducked inside his sweater to hide, falling asleep to the gentle rise and fall of her master’s breathing until the electric beep of the turnstile jolted her awake.  
  


Tabitha had since arrived at Rustboro Station, tugging his life on wheels behind him up to an ATM and public payphone at the exit. He withdrew the remainder of his cash and dialed up Shelly’s number.  
  


Skitty heard her master’s voice soften once again.  
  


“Hey Shelly, it’s Tabitha.” He clutched the plastic payphone, wrapping his finger around the cord. “I know I’ve said I’ve been busy and I know that I left things a bit sour when we last spoke, and for that I’m so, so, so, so, sorry…but I need to talk to you as soon as possible. I’m in Rustboro looking for work, but I’ve got no place to live…Yamada deactivated my PokeNav, so I’m calling from a payphone. I’ll come check it in about an hour, so try calling me back then. Thanks.”  
 _  
_

He hung up the line and turned to face the metallic jungle of Rustboro City’s streets that he would now call home. Even though he had navigated them countless times, he felt more lost than ever. Everything that had once seemed friendly and familiar now seemed cold and distant, even the bronze Lileep that welcomed him at the front of the station.  
  


“All right, Skitty…let’s go find somewhere to settle down.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Fifteen minutes before, Tabitha returned to Rustboro Station to wait in anticipation for Shelly’s call. An hour passed, but the phone did not ring.  
  


_Perhaps she’s busy,_ Tabitha thought. _I’ll just hang around for a while and see if she’s being fashionably late as usual. Or, odds are she’s still upset with me. She has every right to be._  
  


He bought two bowls of cheap steamed rice from a street vendor’s rickety cart nearby and sat down on a bench, feeding Skitty in his lap and then himself, glancing back at the payphone every so often. It did not ring.  
  


Tabitha checked his watch. She was pushing two hours late now, and he still had not found a suitable place to live.  
  


He had staked out as many hotels as he could find, but all of them were either too expensive, all booked out for the holidays, or both.  
  


Rustboro had a famous capsule hotel lauded as a site for thrifty travelers and penny-pinching companies sending their employees to the city on business, but Tabitha had discovered the rooms, stacked on top of one another like kennels, were too small for him to squeeze into the cells. They, too, were filled with reservations.  
  


On his way back to the station, he had stumbled upon an abandoned storefront. A realty sticker was affixed to the window, but it was clear by the condition of the building that the realtor had long since given up hope on leasing the lot. From what Tabitha could tell peering in, shredded papers, decaying plants, twisted metal, and a score of other debris littered the floor, but it appeared uninhabited. However, when he climbed cautiously through the shattered window and stepped into the darkness, high-pitched screeching noises filled the room and a horde of frightened Zubats chased him out. Skitty hissed at them until they disappeared as black flecks in the sky.  
  


Tabitha leaned back against the bench, looking up at the murky clouds deep in thought.  
  


The weather was growing colder with each passing hour, each passing day. Now, it may be raining, but it was not unusual for the last week of December to bring the first snowfall of the season. Skitty hopped into his hoodie again, seeking his body heat.  
  


Off in the distance, the first of the commuters were filing out of their office buildings to return home in the second wave of rush hour.  
  


Time to go.  
  


Flicking the excess rain off his umbrella, Tabitha rose from the bench and headed east toward the one pocket of the city that had yet to succumb to modernization.  
  


For all the technological advancement Rustboro City advertised, it sure tried to keep the eastern part of town hidden like a spot of rust on its shining steel skyscrapers. Here, many buildings, most of them built of stone from the city’s earliest days, remained in disrepair with crumbling walls and shattered windows. It had the cheapest realty so seedy businesses such as taboo tattoo parlors and gambling arcades lined the streets, beckoning travelers to their doors with gaudy neon lights. Miraculously, a handful of honest shops remained that still attracted regular customers from time to time, and it was near these stores that Tabitha began to hunt for an alleyway as a last-ditch effort.  
  


Granted, he had three very particular criteria:

  *       Cleanliness (as far as alleys were concerned, anyway).
  *       Closeness to a payphone so that he could continue reaching out to Shelly.
  *       Darkness, to hide him from the view of the main street.   
  
  




Tabitha resolved to find an alley out of public sight where he could conceal his shameful situation, even if he believed it to be only temporary. He was confident enough that his credentials would net him some type of job soon, and it was this fact that kept him moving forward.  
  


One alley that had met his checklist, sandwiched between an antique shop and a quaint little bookstore, caught his eye. He had walked relatively far, nearly reaching the outskirts of the city, but the area was quiet and the stores had closed for the evening. Across the street in front of a carpenter’s artisan shop was a payphone.  
  


Perhaps Shelly would answer now. Checking to make sure the streets were empty, Tabitha approached the phone and dialed her number, only to be met with silence on the other line.  
  


“Hey Shelly, it’s Tabitha. Again. Sorry if I disrupted you earlier. Try calling this number when you get this message as I’ve found shelter over on the east side. I’ll go out tomorrow to look for work again, so it would be better to call me in the evenings at your earliest convenience. Thanks.”  
  


He hung up the phone and returned to the alley, digging Skitty out of his hoodie to put her on the ground.  
  


The cobblestones underneath his feet were cold and uninviting. Even at this lowest point in his lifetime, his germaphobe mentality would not allow himself to sleep directly on the floor of the alley.  
  


So, he went behind the bookstore and raided their recycling bins for large cardboard boxes and allowed the mechanical engineer in him to get to work.  
  


Once he finished construction a while later, he called Skitty’s attention away from the Rattata she had been stalking to admire his handiwork.  
  


“Here we are, Skitty. Home sweet home, for a while anyway.”  
  


The house stood at about half his height, the walls, floor, and ceiling composed of several cardboard boxes that had been flattened and stuck together with wet tar from the street. A single window had been cut in the front with a great view of the street, aligned precisely to allow beams of natural sunlight to illuminate the living space on rare sunny days. On the roof, a discarded clay pot from the antique store’s recycling served to collect rain for water to drink and wash. Tabitha had made the ceiling high enough for him to sit up cross-legged inside, though he had to crawl on his hands and knees to get through the door, which opened and closed on an artificial hinge. He had even spread one of his bedsheets over the floor as a makeshift carpet. The only downside to the house, of course, was that it was a single room just big enough for him to sleep in.  
  


Across the side of the house, Tabitha carved his name proudly with the flat end of his toothbrush, christening the box for use.  
  


“Like all good inventions, now we must test it out.”  
  


Skitty mewed happily and bounded in after her master, scratching at his pants impatiently as he retrieved the remainder of his bedsheets, his quilt, and fuzzy blanket that were neatly folded beside his briefcase and suitcase.  
  


“I made you a bed too, Skitty.” Tabitha dropped her into the cardboard box at his feet and rolled his blankets out over the floor, wrapping himself into them like a burrito.  
  


Instead of appreciating her owner’s gesture, she jumped out and wormed her way inside Tabitha’s cocoon to leech off his warmth.  
  


He woke up countless times during the night to keep adding layers to his pajamas, but no matter how many clothes he added or how many blankets he buried himself under, he remained cold to the bone. Outside, the temperatures hovered several degrees below freezing. It would not be much longer until the first snow of the season—the question gnawing at his mind was “when”.

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning, Tabitha dressed into his suit, packed his valuables in his briefcase, and spent a long time trying to coax Skitty into her Cherish Ball.  
  


“Skitty, we must go job hunting today, every day until I land something, and there's no way I'm leaving you to stay here alone in this godforsaken part of town.”  
  


But every time he tossed it in her direction, Skitty continued to break free from the ball in defiance until her master finally gave up and carried her up the street in his arms.  
  


Some businesses turned Tabitha away at the door for trying to carry his beloved Pokemon inside, referencing the “no Pokemon allowed” stickers in the windowsill. Others welcomed them with open arms and squeals of happiness at Skitty’s cute charm and Tabitha secretly hoped that she could sway their opinions. But, it was only a few days before New Year’s Eve, and everywhere he looked did not have openings or had already closed their doors for the holidays.  
  


He knew that what he had gotten himself into was a stroke of bad luck; this was the absolute worst time of year to be unemployed, for New Year’s in Hoenn was a week-long affair.  
  


One manager from a law firm had advertised a clerk job in the newspaper. When Tabitha showed up knocking at his office door, the young man’s eyes lit up at the sight of the Skitty cradled in his arms. It was obvious to Tabitha that during their entire conversation, the manager was only focused on his Pokemon and had hardly paid attention to a word he’d said.  
  


Out of the blue, the man asked him an odd question.  
  


 

 

“How much will you sell that Skitty for?”  
  


Tabitha blinked back his surprise. “Pardon me?”  
  


“I asked how much you’d be willing to sell that Skitty of yours for.” The manager folded his hands and cleared his throat, business-like. “I’ll give you, say, 2.1 million Pokedollars for her.”  
  


Tabitha’s face turned sheet white.  
  


_That's enough to pay for more than two year’s worth of rent._   
  


When the color returned to his cheeks, he shot the man across the desk a suspicious glance. “Why offer me so much money when you can go and catch one yourself?”  
  


“Because,” the man began, “I would not be able to. I’d wager all I would be able to find are Skitties with pink coats, not scarlet red. Your Skitty is one in a million—a beautiful, rare genetic defect.” His eyes gave Skitty a thorough comb-over, but she was less than pleased at his creepy stare and hissed at him angrily.  
  


 

“I’m sorry, but she is not and never will be for sale.” Tabitha held her close and rose from his seat, making his way toward the door despite the manager’s protests.  
  


“Good day, sir.”

 

 

 

 

 

After a day of failure, he returned to the east side, calling Shelly before he went to fetch dinner from a food cart and again on the way home.  
  


She did not answer either time.  
  


 

 

 

 

Tabitha spent the next couple days much the same way, sparing an afternoon to go shopping for groceries at the closest convenience store: a loaf of bread, some raw vegetables, dried shrimp crackers, and a few bags of gummy candy.  
  


He taped his food receipts from the past week on the wall of his bedroom, adding up the totals with a grimace. Paper bills and coins lie in thin stacks on the floor. Funds were running dry and from his calculations, he could barely milk another week out of what was displayed in front of him.  
  


Every day, twice a day, Tabitha kept calling Shelly and leaving her messages, but he never once heard the payphone ring.  
  


_Why is she not picking up?_ He thought, his mind a sea of questions. _Is she really ignoring me because she’s still upset?_  
  


Despite his dwindling change, he vowed he would not cease calling her until he had spent his last coin.

 

 

 

 

 

Tabitha holed up in his cardboard house for the New Year’s holiday, eating little and sleeping lots. To celebrate the occasion, he spent a bit more of his money than usual on a small stack of sticky mochi from the convenience store to split with Skitty. The two of them lay on their bellies, chewing their treat carefully to savor every last bit (and to avoid choking like so many people did every year), watching the fireworks burst into stunning flowers of flames outside the single cut-out window.  
  


Then, in the wee hours of the morning, a bloodcurdling scream jolted him awake.  
  


The first thing Tabitha noticed was that the noise had been relatively close—judging by how loud it had been, he wagered it had happened in the very alleyway he was living in. Hoping desperately that whoever was outside wasn’t a crazed burglar with a knife or a gun, he snatched his umbrella and crawled to the front, trying his best to lie low out of the view of the window. He pressed his ear against the door and, hearing only silence, he slowly pushed through to the outdoors.  
  


The second thing he noticed was that Skitty had not followed him outside.  
  


“Skitty?”  
  


Tabitha retreated back into the house to search for her, shaking all of his blankets and her cardboard box, but she was nowhere to be found.  
  


Terror, an intensely unpleasant feeling, welled up inside of him.  
  


He opened the door again and called her name, over and over like a broken record, seeing his panicked breaths in the frigid air. When she did not respond, he began overturning the boxes against the brick walls, finding little but grime, ripped books, and shattered pottery.  
  


Suddenly, a shrill hiss echoed through the alley and he caught a flash of movement near the back street out of the corner of his eye.  
  


Tabitha gripped the handle of his umbrella so tight that his shaking knuckles turned white, brandishing it like a sword out in front of him. Ready to jab at anything in a moment’s notice.  
  


Slowly, cautiously, he tiptoed over to peer around the corner of the recycling bin.  
  


 

A massive mangy Raticate, nearly the size of the trash cans scattered nearby, circled around Skitty lying on the ground in a pool of blood. She was shaking, unable to even move as it sunk its teeth deep into her.  
  


Tabitha screamed.  
  


The Raticate whirled around to face him, its fur standing on end in a territorial display.  
  


But this did not phase the man, who stood firm and threw all of his weight and anger into a swing, hitting the Raticate square in the side with the umbrella to push it away from defenseless Skitty. Tabitha stood over his Pokemon, glaring at the rat with a burning hatred so fierce that he could feel one of his gritted teeth begin to crack.  
  


When the Raticate pounced, Tabitha lunged right at it and drove the sharp pointed tip of the umbrella straight into the Pokemon’s soft underbelly—and kept going, going, until it burst out of its back and it moved no more.  
  


He threw the umbrella and the Raticate skewered within it aside and rushed to Skitty’s aid. Tabitha dropped to his knees and cradled her trembling, fragile body in his arms. Deep, open wounds pocketed her skin and blood continued flowing freely from them, dripping through the spaces in between his fingers to land upon the Torkoals of his favorite pajama bottoms.  
  


“S-Skitty…….”  
  


She gave a weak mew in response.  
  


“Skitty, p-please…p-please hang in there…!!”  
  


Tabitha tore off his hoodie and bundled her inside to shield her from the cold. Its muted grey quickly became stained red.  
  


Then, powered by sheer adrenaline, he ran down the quiet street in his pajamas and socks, not giving a damn about anyone who saw him in such casual attire or who might have seen the tears streaming down his face.  
  


By the time he reached the bright lights of the nearest Pokemon Center, Tabitha was crying uncontrollably, deep sobs wracking his body. The few customers who milled about inside all turned to stare at the mess of a man who had just burst through the doors and up to the counter with a low bow.  
  


“P-please fix my Skitty…!! I-I’ll give you every cent to my name, but I **_beg_** of you, hurry…b-before she…”  
  


He held the bundle out to the nurse behind the desk. Her face paled when she lifted the fabric to look inside and she pressed a button at her desk, leaning over it with a whisper so that Tabitha could not hear.  
  


“We have a Level 1.”  
  


A few seconds later, several nurses clad in white labcoats and surgical face masks filed out from the back door. Just as quickly as they had come, they collected the wad of hoodie and vanished through the door into the recesses of the center.  
  


Tabitha, tired and heartbroken, dragged himself over to a plastic chair against the wall to wait and weep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Are you okay, sir? You’re coughing quite a bit.”  
  


A passing nurse snapped Tabitha out of his daze. He’d lost track of how long he had been staring at the painted wall on the other end of the room.  
  


“Ahya? Oh…it’s nothing, really.” He shrugged, erupting into a bout of coughing again. “Cripes…”  
  


“Here, I’ll fetch you something to drink.”  
  


The nurse disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a ceramic cup filled to the brim with hot green tea.  
  


“Thank you.” Tabitha accepted it generously, taking tiny sips every so often as the drink cooled.  
  


He turned to the window to stare out at the sun peeking out of the pink dawn clouds until the soft voice of another nurse called his name.  
  


“Mr. Homura?”  
  


“Yes,” Tabitha did not tear his gaze from the window.  
  


The nurse laid her hand gently on his wrist. “Please come with me.”

 

 

 

 

 

She led him through the door down a bustling corridor filled with rushed personnel and the heavy scent of antiseptic. They pushed through the door of one of the rooms lining the hall and were met with darkness.  
  


 

 

A single light hung over the examination table where Skitty lie curled up peacefully. Bandages and gauze nearly covered her from head to toe, some of them rust-colored where she had already bled through hours before.  
  


“She’s sleeping right now. It was quite a long night.” The nurse wandered over to a series of cabinets nearby to gather some supplies, stuffing them into a brown paper bag on the counter.  
  


Tabitha carefully approached Skitty, making every effort not to wake her. “W-will she be all right…?”  
  


“She may hurt for a few days, but we have prescribed her painkillers and steroid cream for her stitches.”  
  


“S-stitches…”  
  


“I’ll be giving you a pamphlet for how to care for them along with all of her medication tomorrow. We’d like to keep an eye on her overnight as a precaution.” The nurse finished preparing the bag and came to set it beside Skitty, handing Tabitha a small slip of paper. “Here is your bill, sir.”  
  


“My…bill…?” Tabitha raised a brow, his eyes widening at the numbers printed before him. “Aren’t Pokemon Centers free of charge for their services?”  
  


“Free to heal a party of minor injuries, yes. But that Skitty’s wounds were much too serious for our machine to heal. When procedures such as surgeries are involved, we must ask for some compensation to cover the cost.” Seeing the look of shock on her customer’s face, the nurse immediately bowed apologetically. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir.”  
  


He stood there locked in a mental battle for what felt like forever, the gears in his mind turning round and round like they always did whenever he was faced with a particularly challenging problem. Except this time, rather than a mathematical equation, it was a cash-strapped lifestyle.  
  


Finally he nodded, folding the paper in half into his pocket. “I must run an errand. Will it be an issue if I pay later?”  
  


“No, you may pay your bill at any time before you come to pick her up. Then, we will release her to you.” The nurse escorted him out of the room and all the way to the glass doors of the exit, waving him goodbye as he walked the long road home to his cardboard domicile alone.  
  


The first thing Tabitha did when he arrived home was shed his outer pajamas, caked in a layer of blood from the previous night, and change into his trusty sweater and sweatpants. Then, he retrieved his business suit from the confines of his roller and journeyed to find the nearest secondhand shop to trade his livelihood into cold, hard cash.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

The rigid plastic of the payphone shook in his left hand while his right kept Skitty huddled close to his chest, out of the bitter wind. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his voice from cracking and he had to turn away every so often to let loose a cough.  
  


“Hey Shelly. Tabitha here…I wish just once that I could hear your voice again on the other end of the line because you have absolutely no idea what’s happened to me over the past few weeks...and I really, really, really, _really_ need someone to pick me up because I’ve fallen, I’ve fallen so hard, Shelly…”  
  


He paused to catch his breath, watching an elderly man hobble down the street, a Manectric on a leash eagerly pulling its owner onward.  
  


“I _implore_ you, please, call me back…”  
  


Tabitha hung up the payphone, stooped to pick up the paper bag filled with Skitty’s medicines off the ground, and waited to cross the street into the alleyway until the man and his Manectric turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite the fact that he no longer had a formal suit for interviewing, Tabitha continued to go out into the city and try his luck at landing a job. After all, the holidays had ended and somewhere in his depressing state of affairs, he still managed to hold on to a shred of hope that somebody, somewhere, would take pity on him and his injured Pokemon.  
  


But, he quickly began to realize that the world was a harsh place.  
  


He took frequent breaks in between visitations to care for Skitty. No matter how gingerly he tried to remove her bandages and dab ointment on her wounds, she still cried out in anguish. Tabitha had to coat her pills with leftover ketchup packets from the fast food restaurants they went to for lunch just so she would eat them. Though, his hard work paid off in due time; with each passing day, she grew stronger and more energetic while her master grew weaker and fatigued.  
  


On a particularly cold morning, Tabitha sat up in bed with a groan and wiped his brow, only to discover that his skin was slick with sweat. His layers of clothes clung to his sticky body—they had once brought welcome warmth from the cold winter weather, but now they trapped in too much heat. Even when he stripped down to only his sweater and Torkoal pajama bottoms and crawled outside into the chilly morning air, he felt little relief.  
  


And the coughing! What he had once written off as something minor such as a stubborn cold or allergies had since evolved into a constant struggle to breathe. Every time he drew in air, when he could, he was always cut short by either another fit or the sharp, stabbing pain in his chest that wrenched his very breath away. To avoid this intensely unpleasant feeling, Tabitha had resorted to shallow panting, but his lungs were never satisfied, craving more precious oxygen.  
  


Occasionally, he would feel so drained of energy that he would not even leave the house, instead whiling the hours away trying to catch up on missed sleep. Like her master, Skitty favored routines and it was on these days that she would notice that he did not take her for a walk into the city to job hunt, nor would he spend any time playing with her. So, like the high-maintenance feline she was, she would scamper over to his cheek and give it a hearty wake-up slap. Sometimes, her tactic would work and Tabitha would wake with a start and give her an apologetic scratch behind the ear, then they would continue with their day. But, as time went on, Skitty caught him snoozing more often than not and soon, he became unresponsive to her wake-up slaps. All she could do was worm her way underneath one of his limp hands and wait until he awoke on his own.  
  


Then, one evening, Tabitha decided to try something he had not done for a long, long time.  
  


“Skitty…let us take a small journey…together.”  
  


So, he gathered up his cherished Pokemon and every bit of his strength and headed slowly, slowly, for a more familiar corner of the city.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Tabitha was a kid, his family kept coin jars.  
  


During the course of the year, his mother and father would take any spare change they had rattling around in their pockets and drop it into several empty milk jars scattered around the house. They raised their son to do the same and so whenever Tabitha found coins in the street or received an allowance, he resisted the temptations of new toys and poured his money into the jars scattered around his room, striving to fill them.  
  


Then, on New Year’s Day, his father would take a hammer to each jar, smashing them into a million little pieces until the floor of the barn sparkled with shards of glass. All the while, Tabitha watched the display safely from his mother’s side in the rafters, captivated, until his father finished sweeping up the mess and called them down to count up all the coins.  
  


That was Tabitha’s favorite part. All of the anticipation that had been building up for months and months finally exploded into cries of joy and excitement upon watching the piles and total amount of money rise higher and higher in tandem. As Tabitha grew older, he gradually assumed the responsibility of counting the huge pile of silver and copper all by himself. Sometimes, he spent hours sprawled upon the floor meticulously sorting the coins, but he took great pride in returning to the living room where his mother and father were anxiously waiting so that he could deliver the final number.  
  


After all of the coins had been counted up, his father loaded his whole family into the back of their wooden cart and hitched it to his Camerupt, pulling them into town to buy three train tickets bound for Rustboro City.  
  


Rustboro was famous for its shrine dedicated to the wishmaking Pokemon, Jirachi. Beautiful wooden gates splashed in gold and jade welcomed the thousands of visitors piling in to make their first wishes of the new year in hopes that they would soon be fulfilled. For such a popular shrine, the grounds were not nearly large enough to accommodate the demand from the holidays, and so eager visitors were forced to queue up along the stone steps, waiting for their chance to reach the altar. Tabitha recalled lengthy waits, but never remembered being bored. He ran his hands through the icy water that trickled down the sides of the staircase from fountains mounted at the gates above, rubbing shiny coins between his fingers that others had left behind in tribute.  
  


Once his family reached the altar, they each took a paintbrush from a communal can on the ground and dipped them in ink as black as night, writing their wishes on thin strips of vertical paper. It had always been so hard to write legibly without splattering ink all over the place, but Tabitha had taken his sweet time because he wanted nothing but the best penmanship for Jirachi. Then, once his wish was completed, he hung it from one of the two trees overlooking the altar with a piece of ribbon and lowered himself to his knees before the great stone statue of Jirachi, whispering a prayer with a bow.  
  


Over the years, his wishes had changed alongside him. They varied wildly: new toy building blocks, cool clothes, more money, a first kiss, his father’s health. Sometimes his wishes were granted while other times they seemed to fall on deaf ears, but that sense of unpredictability, that hypothetical “what if?” mentality, and the needs and wants of growing up kept him returning every January refreshed and ready to make another wish.  
  


After he left for college, his family buried the tradition and stopped going to the shrine, blaming rising transportation costs and schedule conflicts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tonight, the shrine was deathly still. New Year’s had passed nearly a week ago, so the stragglers who had come to make their wishes late were the only ones roaming the sacred grounds. Tabitha felt he looked slightly out of place in his pajamas among the few milling about in work attire, but everything else he owned felt much too warm on his feverish body. At his feet, Skitty bounded along behind him, faint marks upon her skin being the only remaining traces of her injuries.  
  


He waited patiently for a young boy and his mother to finish mouthing their prayers before approaching the altar, briefly locking eyes with the kid before his mother shot him a glare and pulled her child close.  
  


The youthful spark in the boy’s eyes had reminded him of years gone by. Now, his own were a glazed over, corroded red, as if the flame that once burned within them had been snuffed out.  
  


Tabitha collapsed to his knees and took the paintbrush from its can. So small, so delicate in his giant hands.  
  


With a wheeze, he grabbed a paper strip and stared at his canvas, attempting to form coherent sentences in his foggy mind.  
  


And then, he began to write.  
  


His hands trembled as he guided the brush along, creating shaky lines and imperfect letters, but he swallowed his pride and reassured himself that it was the best he could do in his current state.  
  


When he finished, he hung his tag from a thin twig to his left and lowered himself to the ground, his forehead pressing into the cold stone underneath him.  
  


“Oh, venerable Jirachi…I come to you this evening…seeking a humble wish…”  
  


His coughs fragmented his thoughts, but he continued on.  
  


“As you may already be aware…I have very little in my possession…but I do not wish for materialistic comforts tonight…”  
  


Tabitha paused to clear his throat, paying careful attention to his wording.  
  


“I request a second chance…an opportunity to restart this life I have lived…as a _tabula rasa_ …a clean sheet…”  
  


His voice began to waver.  
  


“My condition is deteriorating…and I cannot afford to seek a physician’s care…if my health should be instrumental…to this wish…then by the powers that be…please give me the vigor…to help…grant it…”  
  


He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few of his last coins, tossing one at the foot of Jirachi’s statue to join countless others in the pebbles below.  
  


Skitty rubbed up against his side and mewed, pawing at his sweater until he tucked her back inside of it and shakily brought himself to his feet again.  
  


He stood there for a while, staring into the kind face of the deity as if waiting for something to happen, then turned to descend the stone steps back through the winding city streets to his cardboard box.  
  


The first snowflakes of winter began to fall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tabitha placed his final call to Shelly when he arrived home, fighting to speak until he lost the battle and could say no more, doubling over in a heave. It took several minutes for him to recuperate, his breath coming in ragged gasps.  
  


Then, he returned to the box across the street to prepare for bed.

 

 

 

 

 

Hours passed. His whole body ached from being jostled about so violently for so long and he wanted nothing more than to give his raw throat a much-needed break.  
  


Suddenly, a sweet melody began to fill the room.  


_“PpppuurrrrRRRRRrrrrrrrrRRRppuuuprrrrrrRRRRRRrrrpppuuurr…”_   


It was so close that Tabitha could have sworn someone was serenading in his ear, but at the same time, it sounded far away, muted. What was this sensation? Who had managed to sneak into his home unnoticed?  


_“PuurrPuurrPuuurrrRRRpuurrrr…PuurrPuurrPuuurrrRRRpuurrrr….”_   
  


He attempted to lift himself out of bed to check for the intruder, but his leaden limbs refused to budge. That is when he noticed his eyelids growing heavy and before he could form words, his world grew dark and he fell deep into a peaceful slumber.  
  


Skitty nuzzled his cheek lovingly and climbed onto her master’s stomach, curling up in a tight ball with a _puuurrrr_ to let his uneven breaths rock her to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ ** _HELL YEAH_** , didja see that totally sick body slam? Sally Mence got ‘im real good.”  
  


“Ohoho! Just you wait! The Purple Punisher’s just storin’ up his energy for a sec, then he’s gonna pummel Sally all the way to the end of the ring!—HOOHAHAAA, see?? What’d I tell ya?”

 

 

Shelly and Matt, her partner in crime, sat together on the sofa in the depths of Team Aqua’s Lilycove headquarters, their attention glued to the plasma screen television. Tonight was the semifinals between Hoenn’s own Sally Mence and her fierce rival from Johto, the infamous Purple Punisher—a match-up that no diehard wrestling fan should miss. Both of them had placed good money on their selective picks and the victor would take the entire pool of cash currently sitting in their boss’s office.  
  


Shelly pointed excitedly at the screen, shoving a fistful of popcorn into her mouth. “Sally Mence is a total badass! Look, she’s getting up--!”  
  


Without warning, Matt bolted upright, knocking the bowl out of his lap and sending kernels of popcorn scattering across the living room floor. “AND **_BLAMMO,_** Purple’s done it again!”  
  


“She just…she just needs time to recharge too! Look what that bought him!”  
  


_[“Aaaand don’t touch that dial, folks!! X-TREME WRESTLING will continue after these messages! ”]  
_

“Oh, _fantastic_. Commercial breaks suck.” Shelly snorted, sliding lazily in her seat.  
  


Matt fished the remote out from between the couch cushions and began to channel surf, Shelly passively watching until a familiar face flashed for a split second in-between channels.  
  


“WOAH WOAH, GO BACK! GO BACK, MATT!”  
  


Confused, Matt flipped to the channel he had just passed where a nature documentary about Corphish was playing. “Back where? Here?”  
  


“No, it was like five channels ago!”  
  


He began backtracking channels in reverse until he heard Shelly shriek.  
  


“There! _THERE_! Oh my god, you just passed it! Ugh, lemme see it!” Taking charge, she yanked the remote right out of Matt’s hand and flipped ahead until she reached what appeared to be a news station.  
  


A man dressed sharply in a navy blue suit and striped tie came into view, staring at the audience with a grave, business-like expression.  
  


 _[“…issued a Missing Persons Alert for Tabitha Homura, age 22. Lavaridge locals Tsukuru and Naoka Homura, the parents of this young man, are searching for their son. They last received communication from him over three weeks ago, on December 23_ r _d_ _, and he is believed to be somewhere in the vicinity of Rustboro City. Anyone who may have seen this man, please notify the Rustboro police at the following number…”_ ]  
  


Shelly froze, staring at the photograph displayed on-screen. Even as it was replaced by a gushy commercial advertising Valentine’s chocolates, the face was still branded in her mind.  
  


“Yo Shelly…didja know that guy or somethin’?” Matt shook her shoulder, but Shelly did not turn her gaze away from the television.  
  


“Matt. Go round up the grunts.” Her normally peppy voice turned frigid.  
  


“Oho?! Whassup Shell—“  
  


“ ** _Now_**.”  
  


“Okay okay, geez, I gotcha!” Matt peeled himself from the couch and ran down the hall, his thunderous voice booming through the entire base.  
  


Once she was certain her cohort was gone, Shelly dashed off in the opposite direction toward her private room, her mind racing with regrets.  
  


_I KNEW it, I KNEW I shouldn’t have left him to his own devices! I shoulda kept pestering him at every chance I got!_   


She stormed through the door and grabbed her blue PokeNav, dialing up Tabitha’s number at lightning speed.  
  


Instead of his voice greeting her on the other end of the line, she was addressed by an automated message:

 

 

 _Wow, that’s weird,_ she thought. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew her friend was at least mature enough to try and reach out to her if he found himself in such a dire situation. No petty argument between them would have changed that. Perhaps he had messaged her instead?  
  


Shelly rummaged through her texts, only to realize that Tabitha had never responded to her when she forwarded him her new number. Had he simply been too busy with his new job to notice? Then, why hadn’t he said something when things got bad? Did something…happen to him?  
  


That was when she remembered that she still had her Devon PokeNav sitting in the confines of her dresser.  
  


Shelly opened the drawer and found it wedged between some socks. She powered it on and was greeted with a barrage of text.

 

  
 

 

Immediately, she opened her voicemail inbox and scrolled down until she reached the very bottom. Every single one was from an unknown caller, most of them from the exact same number.  
  


_Who the heck is this?_   


She recalled Tabitha’s disconnected PokeNav with a sinking feeling and highlighted the first one, marked December 26th, bringing a hand to her mouth the moment she heard his voice on the other side.

 

 

_[“Hey Shelly, it’s Tabitha. I know I’ve said I’ve been busy and I know that I left things kind of sour when we last spoke, and for that I’m so, so, so, so, sorry…but I need to talk to you as soon as possible. I’m in Rustboro looking for work, but I’ve got no place to live…Yamada deactivated my PokeNav, so I’m calling from a payphone. I’ll come check it in about an hour, so try calling me back then. Thanks.”]_   


A piercing regret tore through her, causing her blood to run cold and her knees to buckle. Finding herself suddenly lightheaded, she wandered over to her bed to lie down and flip through the messages, pausing to listen to some of them in their entirety.  
  


The PokeNav felt like ice in her clammy fingers and it wasn’t until she touched the screen to roll on to the next message that she realized that her hands were shaking.  
  


_[“Hello Shelly. It’s me. Again. I’m near the corner of 6 th and 21st. I cannot tell you how dreadful it is to be living outside! I mean, I selected the cleanest alley I could find and guess what? It’s still somewhat filthy! Absolutely disgusting. At least I don’t have to lie directly on the ground—I live in a box. But, let me assure you that it is the very best cardboard domicile around because, I, Tabitha, constructed it myself!”]_

 

_[“Happy New Year, Shelly. Guess who. You’re probably busy for the holidays and to be completely honest, I don’t know why I even still call you at this point since maybe you don’t wish to be friends with me anymore. Are you angry with me? That’s okay, I understand if you are…but it would be nice to at least get a confirmation so I can cease bothering you because this whole situation has me so horribly discombobulated.”]_

 

 

_[“Hey Shelly. Tabitha here…I wish just once that I could hear your voice again on the other end of the line because you have absolutely no idea what’s happened to me over the past few weeks...and I really, really, really, really need someone to pick me up because I’ve fallen, I’ve fallen so hard, Shelly…I implore you, please, call me back…”]_

 

****

 

Finally, she reached the most recent message.  
  


Two days ago.  
  


_[“Shelly…………..please………pick up....I don’t know…I don’t know……what’s wrong with…me…….I ca—“]_   


Tabitha never finished, but the message kept rolling, recording every harrowing moment of his coughing attack until the line ran out of funds and cut itself.  
  


At that moment, immense guilt welled up inside of Shelly, knowing that at the root of it all, Team Aqua was responsible for everything.  
  


She had been absent from work that fateful day because she was the one orchestrating the mission behind the scenes that would later cause Tabitha to lose his job.  
  


 _She_ was responsible for everything.  
  


Shelly clenched her teeth and balled up a fist, driving it with all her might into her bedroom wall.  
  


“ _ **IT’S MY FUCKING FAULT!**_ ”  


Over and over and over and over again, until her knuckles began to bleed.  
  


 _“ **IT’S ALL MY FUCKING FAULT!**_ ”  


Tears streamed down Shelly’s face, makeup rolling down her cheeks in rivers of indigo.  
  


Suddenly, her door swung open.  
  


“Oi, ‘the hell is wrong, lass?”  
  


Even with her back turned to the door, she could recognize the deep, husky voice of her boss entering the room.  
  


“Archie, I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up big time.”  
  


“Woah woah woah, hold yer tongue, Shelly.” The burly man sat down beside her on the bed, pulling her close to wipe away her stray tears. “Now tell me, what’s with that sad look in yer eyes?”  
  


“Do you remember when I told you about that funny lil’ man I used to work with back at Devon?”  
  


“Aye.”  
  


“He’s been leaving messages on my old Devon PokeNav for weeks…he’s homeless on Rustboro’s streets now and he sounds terrible…the last message he sent he could hardly talk because he was gasping so much…and it’s all my fault, Archie!!” Shelly fell over into his strong, steady shoulder.  
  


He ran his calloused fingers through the wild strands of her hair. “Yeah, I been hearin’ that halfway across the base, but not’a reason why.”  
  


“That mission at Devon headquarters…the one you asked me to oversee, you gave me all that responsibility and all those grunts, and I trusted them to act cool with me…but you know what they did?! You know what those numbskulls did! All those instructions, in one ear and out the other, and then all the shit you saw on the news happened and that’s what got Tabs fired and he--”  
  


“ ** _Ohohohooo_**! Shelly, I got piles ‘a grunts waitin’ out—“  
  


The two of them turned to see Matt’s head peeking through the doorframe, but his big-hearted grin faded the moment his eyes settled on their ashen faces.  
  


“…we’re outside, fellas…”  
  


With a whistle, he withdrew back into the hall, softly closing the door behind him.  
  


It was Archie who finally shattered the awkward silence. “Shelly, how long’ve I known ya for?”  
  


“Eighteen years.”  
  


“Aye, and in those eighteen years, I know you’d never do such a thing to a dear old friend because it ain’t never happened to me.”  
  


“But that was _my_ mission and I _failed_! Those grunts were taking orders from _me_!”  
  


Her friend clucked his tongue, flashing her the warm, toothy grin she knew so well. “We can do our best to try and tame the sea, but Shelly, that water’ll go wherever it damn well pleases whether we like it or not, and the grunts are just the same. We give ‘em a lil’ freedom to keep ‘em happy, but freedom can come at the cost’a control. It ain’t your fault, lass.”  
  


“Who’s fault is it, then?!” she hissed.  
  


“Does it really hafta be someone’s fault, Shelly? What’s done is done and there ain’t no goin’ back.”  
  


“Uh, yeah, _someone’s_ gotta take the hit here so I can know whose ass I need to stick my heeled boot u—“  
  


Archie pressed a finger to her lips.  
  


“Findin’ that chum’a yers should be our top priority right now.” Her boss smiled, giving her a robust slap on the back.  
  


“Yeah…”  
  


Archie rose from the couch, smoothing out his cape. “Well then, what’re we waiting for?” He clipped it back onto the golden belt around his hips and held his hand out to Shelly, hoisting her back onto her feet.  
  


“Let’s go on a lil’ adventure to Rustboro, lass. Like old times, eh?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Myau!”  
  


The heavyset man behind the vegetable stand peered over the side of his cart, only to find himself staring into the face of a crying Skitty.  
  


“Myaaa?”  
  


Around her neck was a tattered ribbon and a bell—clearly, she belonged to somebody, but she sat alone in the deserted street. For such a roly-poly species, her frame was scrawny, thin, and discolored. In her jaws, she clutched a glass bowl nearly as large as she was, shaking it insistently with quick nods of her head.  
  


“Aww…aint’cha cute, you lil’ thing.” The man beamed and rummaged around inside his cart, retrieving a leek, a radish, and several mushrooms to drop into her bowl. He stooped to the ground and gave her a scratch on the neck, watching her weave around his legs with a contented _purrrrrr_ of gratitude before darting off down the road with the bowl balancing comically between her lips.  
  


When she returned to the cardboard box, she found her master exactly where she had left him: resting propped upright against the wall.  
  


Skitty hopped onto his stomach and wailed until she trembled, but Tabitha did not wake up until she started whacking the bowl against the bridge of his nose.  
  


These days, the only way he got any nourishment was when Skitty went to beg at the foodstands lining the street, mewing cutely until she was either chased off with a broomstick or rewarded with fresh food which she brought back for the two of them to share.  
  


She picked up a mushroom in her teeth and nudged it into his open palm, his fingers slowly closing around the stem.  
  


“Ah…what would I ever do…without you, Skitty…?"  
  


But it wasn’t enough to restore his strength, no matter how delicious the scraps were, and it could not change the fact that Tabitha’s body was on the verge of collapse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He awoke late one night delirious, shivering from the chills that danced up and down his spine. Cough after cough after cough jarred his bones, so deep that he swore at any moment he might hack up his insides all over the cardboard floor.  
  


When the episode ended, he stared up at the ceiling in reflection.  
  


_So…this is it. This is the end for me. Freezing to death in an inconspicuous alleyway of Rustboro City, coughing my lungs out. This isn’t quite what you pictured would do you in, is it, Tabitha?  
_

Skitty had since been roused by her master’s coughs and she paced about the room, looking for a new place to settle down. Silently, Tabitha watched her make a nest out of the pile of clothes sitting inside of the open roller.  
  


_No…you pictured a long, satisfying life. Success. Vacations. Money. A nice house out in the country with a nice spouse and nice kids. You didn’t accomplish any of that, did you?  
_

_Gone before you could even experience your prime, and it’s not fucking fair.  
_

He narrowed his eyes, his face flushing red with a combination of fever and anger.  
  


 _I shouldn’t have wasted my energy going to that shrine if I had known nobody would listen to me. Are you listening now, Jirachi?! Why call yourself a wishmaker if you can’t even grant the most desperate of requests?! You’re so full of **shit**_!!  
  


Several minutes ticked by as Tabitha simmered in his own heated thoughts, but then, the realization dawned on him that if these were truly the last conscious moments he had in this world, he wouldn’t want them to be so spiteful. Remorse and desperation settled in.  
  


_I don’t want to leave Skitty all alone, I don’t want the next time I go home to Mother and Father to be in a coffin instead of a train, and I don’t want to miss that phonecall when my best friend finally figures out what’s going on so I can tell her everything.  
_

_I don’t want to die, Jirachi.  
_

Waiting for the inevitable end to claim him, he closed his eyes for the last time…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and they immediately snapped back open.

_What the hell was that?!_

 

The cardboard box shifted with movement and he heard Skitty hissing nearby, but it was so dark that he couldn’t quite make out what was happening.  
  


“Breloom, sleep powder!”  
  


A yell from outside.  
  


Suddenly, a bright light beamed down upon him and he groaned weakly, wincing in pain for he could not even move his arms to shield his face.  
  


When his vision readjusted, he found himself staring into the eyes of a girl.

 

 

She looked to be slightly younger than him—if he could wager a guess, probably a teenager. Striking purple hair peeked out from underneath the crimson hood she wore and in her gloved hands were a flashlight and a large Styrofoam convenience store slurpee cup.  
  


Tabitha recognized the uniform from news broadcasts over the years.  
  


That “M” was the mark of a Team Magma grunt.  
  


She leaned over him, her lavender eyes darting across his body in analysis, though her expression remained blank, even as she lifted his hand to examine his pale fingers.  
  


The girl spoke in a slightly unsettling monotone. “Hypoxia…”  
  


“What…the hell are you…doing in my house…you heathen?!” Tabitha spat, his voice unable to register above a normal speaking volume. He erupted into another bout of strong coughs and the girl shied away, watching him intensely in fascination. When he finally finished, she offered him her drink, waving the straw in front of his face.  
  


Tabitha was so thirsty that he brought the straw to his lips without a second thought, feeling the flavored ice trickle down to soothe his burning throat.

Strawberry. At least if it were poisoned, he reasoned he was going to die anyway. Might as well end on a sickeningly sweet note.  
  


As he polished off what remained of the drink, she turned to address another grunt that had crawled behind her to pack up Tabitha’s belongings. “This is him…an ex-Devon…”  
  


Tabitha cried out in protest, but the second grunt did not even flinch. “Hey…! Stop, thief…!”  
  


A finger pressed firmly to his lips, silencing him. “Shh…preserve your energy. Come.”  
  


“Even…if I wanted to…I’m afraid I cannot…and I am not completely certain I want to…” He wheezed.  
  


“…”  
  


She said nothing.  
  


When the other grunt returned, the girl with purple hair addressed him directly, gesturing for him to join her with a jerk of her head.  
  


“We will help you.”  
  


Tabitha could feel himself moving, sliding out the front door, his cardboard ceiling changing to a cloudy midnight sky. Once outside, he was propped up over the shoulders of the two grunts for support and they gradually guided him down the back of the alley toward the waiting door of a sleek ruby red, windowless van.  
  


_Oh god, I’ve been mistaken. I’m not going to die in an alley, I’m getting mugged of what little possessions I have and it’s only a matter of time before these criminals grow bored of me and decide to dump my corpse on the street. And I can’t fight back.  
_

“Can’t I…at the very least…know the names…of my ‘good Samaritans’…?” Tabitha grumbled while he was loaded into the vehicle.  
  


The girl shook her head in response, joining him in the back seat as her partner hopped behind the wheel and twisted the ignition. The car rumbled to life, vibrations rattling its occupants inside.  
  


On the seat beside him, Tabitha could see Skitty sleeping calmly, curled among his things. He watched over her until he saw a burst of light out of the corner of his eye.  
  


A sluggish Numel appeared at the girl’s feet and she leaned over to push her into Tabitha’s lap insistently. “Here…you must keep warm.”  
  


Confused but grateful of her hospitality, Tabitha accepted the Pokemon and cuddled her close, feeling her warmth transfer through his thin pajamas in the blink of an eye.  
  


Even though he knew the van was riding smoothly now, Tabitha perceived the whole interior to rock at a horrific tilt. He grew very dizzy very quickly, his vision blurring at the edges.  
  


The girl grunt across from him, ever observant, noticed him swaying from side to side.  
  


“Are you…all right?”  
  


But Tabitha did not answer. He couldn’t breathe.  
  


Trying to clear his airways, coughs came one right after the other, denying him a chance to replenish his starved body with fresh air. Whatever was stuck inside of him refused to come out.  
  


_I can’t breathe._

_I’m suffocating._

_**I’m suffocating**.  
_

Sweat beaded on his forehead. He felt so hot, but it was so cold inside the van that he was shaking, shaking like a leaf.

His heart was pounding so hard and fast against his ribs that it felt as if it was trying to claw its way out of his chest like some type of caged animal.  
  


_It hurts, everything hurts…!  
_

He wheezed violently into his hand, feeling it moisten with liquid.  
  
  
Blood.  
  


Numel fell to the floor with a heavy crash, prompting the driver to slam on the brakes.

 

 

When Tabitha found an opportunity to steady himself at last, he locked eyes with his fellow passenger. The girl with the purple hair spoke frantically in broken sentences over her PokeNav, but he couldn’t hear a word of what she said, her voice distant and distorted. She never once took her piercing violet eyes off of him. They were wild with fear, with uncertainty.  
  


They were the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness.


	9. Chapter 9

Black, white, and several shades of spattered grey.  
  


These were the colors the doctor saw as he held the x-ray up to the ceiling, examining the blending of the hues with a careful eye as the bright light filtered through.  
  


Several other personnel clad in labcoats bustled about behind him, entering data, processing blood samples, shuttling carts stacked high with complicated machinery, and some were debating with one another about a discontented patient whose skin had turned orange from a miscalculated dose of medication.  
  


Then, the automatic door hissed open and all froze mid-step to turn and face the newcomer who had entered the medical wing.

 

 

A gaunt man sauntered in, his bony hands folded neatly behind his back, carrying himself with an air of authority. It did not even matter that he stood shorter than a handful of others in the ward—all words ceased and everyone bowed to him in nearly perfect sync.  
  


Why his scarlet hair, oh-so-meticulously combed into place, had not begun to grey was a mystery: a life’s dedication to research had aged his face well beyond his years and hollow wrinkles sagged beneath his solemn eyes. They scanned the room behind the panes of thick-rimmed glasses, seeking the doctor with the x-ray in hand.  
  


The doctor quickly realized that it was he who would be graced with the man’s presence and he bowed in greeting as he approached.  
  


“Leader Maxie.”  
  


His leader wasted no time with formalities and jumped right to business. “What is the diagnosis, chief doctor?”  
  


“Pneumonia.” The doctor presented him the x-ray, pointing to several telltale blotches on the film. “Quite widespread too. If the infection didn’t kill him first, then the dehydration would have.”  
  


“Ah. Just as I suspected.” Maxie adjusted his glasses and straightened his posture. “We will want to begin treatment immediately.”  
  


“Yes, sir. We’ve hooked him up to an IV and will be prescribing him antibiotics. Anyone who has been exposed to him will want to take them as a precaution as well.”  
  


The corners of his leader’s mouth curled into a thin smile and he turned to address the entire room. “Superb work, ladies and gentlemen.”  
  


“Thank you, Leader.” The room replied in unison.  


After giving it another quick study, Maxie handed the film back to the doctor.  
  


“Might I check in on our new patient?”  
  


“If you want my personal advice, Leader, I would allow the morning for the first round of medication to kick in.”  
  


“Excellent. I will be on my way then.”  
  


With that, Maxie, the leader of Team Magma, spun on his heels and strolled over to the exit, the automatic doors closing softly behind him.  
  


The moment he left, the organized chaos resumed.

 

 

 

 

 

One wing of the Magma hideout was always bathed in an earthy fragrance. Maxie could smell it as he made his way down the hall, the scent growing gradually stronger until it reached its peak in front of an unmarked room.  
  


That is how he knew exactly where to find her.  
  


He rapped on the aluminum door once, twice, and when there was no response, he reached for the handle and invited himself inside.  
  


 

Intense brightness greeted him. A Numel sat contentedly off in the corner, a beam of light spouting from her back to project an artificial sun onto the ceiling.  
  


It seemed as though every metallic surface had been reclaimed by nature. Plants of all sizes, shapes, and species lined the perimeter of the room and overflowed onto numerous shelves bolted to the walls. Ivy, sage, flytraps, bromeliads, ferns…  
  


But, more than anything else, there were flowers. So many that nearly every shade of the rainbow was represented in this small space, bursting with color.  
  


In the center of it all, on her knees tending to a potted sprig of tiger lilies, was a grunt with striking purple hair. She turned in one fluid motion with a bow to face her superior standing over her.  
  


“Yes, Leader Maxie.”  
  


“I wish to congratulate you on a job well-done. Only you, perhaps the most observant grunt in our ranks, would have made the connection that this man in our possession is an identified ex-Devon employee.”  
  


The grunt rose from the floor, brushing the dirt from her uniform. “Sometimes…I would see him on the train. Going to work. Coming from work. He’s…quite interesting.”  
  


Her attention drifted off into comfortable, blank space.  
  


“But then, I stopped seeing him…until weeks later, when I recognized him walking down the street in his night wear…I thought it strange…so I followed him. To the shrine of Jirachi and back to his...’home’.”  
  


Maxie thirsted to know more. “Did you discover anything particularly remarkable about him?”  
  


“Searched his belongings and found resumes. A graduate of…Nazonokusa University. Mechanical engineering.”  
  


“Hm, prestigious. Yet, unemployed.”  
  


“He is the one…who revived Aerodactyl,” she smirked, recalling the barrage of news reports. “After we returned late last night and transported him to the emergency unit, I…did some research. During university, he interned with Devon…assisted in creating the technology to restore fossils.”  
  


“Fascinating.” A flicker of interest lit up Maxie’s eyes. “Thanks to your work, we may have finally found the missing piece to initiate Project AZOTH.”  
  


“…”  
  


The grunt was silent.  
  


Her leader switched gears. “Who was your accomplice?”  
  


“Eugene.”  
  


“Congratulations are in order for him as well.”  
  


He rolled up his sleeve and gave a quick glance at his watch, smoothing out his labcoat.  
  


“Now then. If you will excuse me, I will depart for breakfast. You know, I must prepare myself for the grand 11 ‘o clock speech.”  
  


With a nod, he bid the girl farewell and slipped into the hallway, leaving her standing in the middle of her makeshift garden to muse, waiting anxiously for 11:00 AM to arrive.  
  


She secretly loved his enlightening speeches, no matter how overly complicated their topics were, because it meant that she got to _feel_ his passion for science, burning like an untamed flame in every word he spoke.  
  


Few people exhibited such devotion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steady beeping, the click of heels upon tile.  
  


The nauseating scent of strong ethanol.  
  


A sensation of cold metal under his tongue.  
  


_Where am I…?  
  
_

Tabitha cracked open his eyelids with a groan and the freckled face of a young woman filled his line of vision, pulling a thermometer from his lips. Her thick cinnamon-colored curls bounced as she jot down the reading on a clipboard, grinning warmly once she noticed the man was awake.  
  


 

 

“Good afternoon.”  
  


His eyes followed the nurse to his bedside where she approached one of several machines and squinted at the screens, penciling in numbers and notes that he could not see. A red curtain embroidered with a large “M” circled the boundary of his bed, confining him to his own little world of privacy, and an impressive glass-blown lamp sat pretty on the nightstand beside him.  
  


“Where…am I?” he croaked.  
  


“You are in sickbay, sir.”  
  


Oh, right. He’d been abducted and stolen away in a van last night, but that was about all he could recall.  


And now, he was sitting in an infirmary. _Team Magma’s_ infirmary.  
  


His feverish mind, blurred by visions of media coverage, began jumping to worst-case scenarios: What if he was taken hostage? What if they were using him for some twisted science experiment? What if they had already slipped him under the knife and were going to sell his organs on the black market?  
  


_I need to get out of here this instant!  
  
_

But, the wires connecting him to the machines at his left restricted his movements and all he could manage to do was brush the top bed sheet off his body.  
  


Underneath the sheets, where his sweater should have been, was now a crisp white hospital gown. Moreover, the chill he felt from the air conditioning above suggested that he was missing more than just his top.  
  


His eyes grew wide and he bolted upright, his face flushing a vibrant red.  
  


 

“Wh-where are my clothes…?!”  
  


“They are being sanitized at the moment.” The nurse tapped his shoulders reassuringly and guided him back to rest against the pillows.  
  


“I-I need…I require coverage for my…extremities…!!”  
  


“We will return them when you are discharged.” The nurse’s eyes darted to the monitors going haywire. “Please calm down, Mr. Homura. You are disrupting the ECG data.”  
  


But Tabitha did not calm down. He lifted his flustered self to a seated position again, his hands shaking.  
  


“How can you possibly expect me to be calm when I have no godforsaken idea where I am… what happened to me, how you know my name…and why somebody blatantly violated my personal space to dress me in th—“ An intense bout of coughs interjected his hysterics and the nurse scribbled furiously on her clipboard, recording every little detail she witnessed until they ceased and he recovered.  
  


“Because, by having a conniption, you are making it more difficult for yourself to breathe and you need all the help you can get in that respect right now.” She clucked her tongue with a sigh, shaking her head in disapproval.  
  


It was then that he noticed something was conspicuously missing at the foot of his bed.  
  


“Miss, I have a Skitty…do you know where she is?”  
  


“Oh, _her_.” She rolled her eyes and slid the stethoscope off her neck, fitting the pieces into her ears. “She woke up while we rolled you in and wouldn’t let us near you. We had to relocate her for the time being because she kept singing our aides to sleep. Myself included.”  
  


The nurse leaned in close to stick her hand down the top of his gown, Tabitha flinching at her touch as she ran the icy diaphragm across his chest.  
  


“You seem nervous, Mr. Homura.”  
  


“I don’t know, _you_ tell me, if it isn’t obvious enough already…I literally just returned to this plane of consciousness…to find myself captive within the darkest recesses of a _criminal_ organization.”  
  


“It’s not so dark around here.” She gave a lighthearted chuckle. No doubt she was well-accustomed to making awkward small talk. “Oh goodness, I heard you were from Rustboro. I can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of information they are feeding you about Team Magma…I don’t get out so much, but you probably already came to that conclusion.”  
  


She migrated to his back and instructed him to take deep breaths, but he could barely comply, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain gnawing at his side. Her brow furrowed in concern over what she heard and she wrote down more notes, removing herself from him.  
  


All of a sudden, the curtains parted and Tabitha’s face drained of color.  
  


Startled, the nurse spun around so fast that the end of the stethoscope swung freely and smacked her in the face as she tried to bow. “Leader Maxie!”  
  


Her superior’s stoic expression remained. “Good afternoon, Miriam. Perhaps you should exercise a bit more caution and remove your earpieces next time.”  
  


“I apologize, Leader.” She removed the instrument from her ears and draped it over her neck, her face hot pink with embarrassment.  
  


He approached the bed with a gallant stride to look down upon his patient, a knowing smile snaking its way across his lips.  
  


“And you…must be Tabitha Homura.”  
  


An introduction was not necessary--Tabitha had recognized this man in all his infamy from the moment he stepped inside.  
  


“I am called Maxie. I stand as the head of Team Magma, a noble organization whose goal is to propel humanity to even greater heights of progress and evolution.”  
  


“That’s not quite what I’ve heard.” Tabitha’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
  


Maxie seemed unperturbed. “Ah, the paparazzi are quite fond of painting me a sadist and my institution a cult, aren’t they? I can assure you and soon, you will see with your own eyes, that those accusations are baseless--we are nothing of the sort. We, Team Magma, are pleased to have you in our midst and extend to you our warmest welcome.” He gestured for Miriam to hand off her clipboard and leafed through the pages out of curiosity.  
  


Never before had Tabitha experienced such hospitality, from an alleged mafioso, no less—it made him very wary. Surely, there had to be a catch beyond those earnest eyes.  
  


“I-I’m not terribly certain what you want from me…”  
  


Maxie whispered a ‘thank you’ to the nurse and returned her paperwork, giving Tabitha his rare, undivided attention.  
  


“The only thing I want from you is to get well. Your condition is my top priority, so since we have become acquainted, I will leave you now to rest.”  
  


“I…will make an attempt.”  
  


“Please continue to keep a watchful eye on our guest.” The leader nodded to Miriam and turned his back to the bed, making a move to leave, until Tabitha cried out with a wheeze.  
  


“Wait…!”  
  


Maxie’s craned his neck to peer over his shoulder.  
  


“May I please have my Skitty…?”  
  
  
Silence.  
  


“I promise…I promise she won’t cause you any more trouble. She’s just worried about me.” The distraught eyes staring back at him, dark and fatigued, pleaded.  
  


Maxie adjusted his glasses. “If you can prevent her from harming my staff, I will oblige.” He replied, matter-of-factly, and vanished behind the curtain.  
  


Nurse Miriam waited until he had gone to resume her duties, bothering Tabitha with a handful of other small procedures before she, too, excused herself, leaving him to stare up at the bright fluorescent lights above, deep in thought.  
  


So much had happened to him in so relatively little time.  
  


His mind drifted to his parents, then to the fact that he had absolutely no idea how far he was from Lavaridge now.  
  


_I wonder if Mother and Father are worried about me. The last time I spoke with them, I left things so, so, so, so, so horribly bitter…  
  
_

And Shelly. God, Shelly.  
  


_I left things even worse with her…  
  
_

Before he could brood too much longer over his regrets, a disturbance in the curtain caught his focus and the purple-haired grunt from the night before slipped into the room, cradling his beloved Skitty in her arms.  
  


The moment his Pokemon met his gaze, she wriggled herself free from the girl’s grip and leapt onto the bed, bounding up into her master’s waiting arms.  
  


 

“Oh…oh Skitty…I’ve missed you so, so, so much…!” Tabitha’s voice wavered and cracked as he held her close, Skitty nuzzling up against him with overjoyed mews.  
  


The grunt viewed the scene quietly from the foot of the bed, not wanting to intrude upon their reunion. It wasn’t until Tabitha directly addressed her that she even moved.  
  


“How did you…manage that?”  
  


She opened her clenched fist and a crumpled plant fell onto the sheets. Skitty’s head shot up to sniff the air and her nose beckoned her away from her owner and toward the mysterious herb. Cautiously, she bent to smell it and gave a high-pitched squeal, springing herself onto the sprig playfully.  
  


“Oh…would you look at that,” Tabitha grinned. “Pokenip.”  
  


Entertained, the two of them watched Skitty roll around for a moment before his raspy voice spoke again.  
  


“I guess…I should give you a ‘thanks’ for rescuing me…and an apology for misjudging you.”  
  


“…”  
  


She said nothing, so he continued on.  
  


“But above all, I should…introduce myself. I’m Tabitha.” He offered her a hand, but she did not leave her comfortable, safe spot.  
  


“I know.” She said, her voice flat. Vaguely robotic.  
  


Tabitha snorted. “Of _course_ you’d know! I suppose Team Magma keeps well-informed and watches the news…”  
  


The grunt shook her head and dipped a hand into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out a tiny square piece of paper. She began to unfold it meticulously, section by section, until it expanded into its original size and Tabitha could identify the bold printed header as one of his resumes.  
  


“Oh, _I see_ …snooping around in my belongings, huh. I would appreciate it if you don’t do that to my private property.”  
  


A thin smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.  
  


“I’ll ask again…” Tabitha began, slowly lying back against the pillows with a sigh. “Might I…know the name of my good Samaritan…?”  
  


She nodded.  
  


“Courtney.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five silhouettes lurked down the quiet street, cloaked by the late night darkness.  
  


The dilapidated shops and food carts lining the road had long since closed, leaving little reason for anyone other than the occasional Rattata to come wandering this way looking for leftover scraps. It was as if this entire grid of Rustboro City had retired, beat out by the wild nightlife closer toward the city center where bars and high-rise clubs were plentiful.  
  


The group stopped before a payphone that stood in front of a carpenter’s shop.  
  


“Here. This is the one.” Shelly said.  
  


Matt stooped to read the cute Farfetch’d mascot sticker peeling off the side of the machine. “ ‘Kamonegi’…?"  


“Ah yeah, the phone company. Use’ta be one on every corner back in the day…’member, Shelly?” Archie slung his arm around his friend’s shoulder with a nostalgic sigh, but she did not smile. She picked up the receiver and turned it over and over in her hands.  
  


_Tabs’s last call…was from this phone.  
  
_

Suddenly, a shout echoed from the alley behind them.  
  


“ ** _WOAH_**! Whoever made this had it _MADE!”  
  
_

The three executives of Team Aqua whirled around to find the twin grunts that had traveled with them circling a large cardboard box in the alleyway. They could hear his sister’s slap from the other side of the street.  
  


 

“Shut the hell up, Phillip! You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood up!”  
  


“Jillian, how many times I gotta tell ya? It’s Phil. _Phil_.”  
  


“And _I’m_ Jill, not that stupid-ass sissy name!”  
  


“For chrissake, how ‘bout you both shut up before I come over there ‘n keelhaul the both’a ya!” Archie cracked his knuckles and stormed over to the ruckus, his two admins following close behind.  
  


Shelly inspected the box with a prying eye, testing her weight against it to discover that the layered walls held true.  


Sturdy. The work of a mechanical engineer.  
  


She ran her hand down the side, feeling the grooved canals that diverted rainwater to tin pans on the ground. Then, her fingers brushed against a very strange sort of indention and when she took a step back to look, she realized that it was not a canal at all.  
  


‘TABITHA’ was carved into the side of the house.  
  


“He…was here…” she whispered.  
  


The box shook underneath her fingertips and Phil’s muffled voice called to her from within. “Check it out, there’s stuff inside!”  
  


Shelly wandered to the front on shaky legs, dropping to her knees to crawl through the makeshift door into the living quarters.  
  


The place had since been abandoned—that much was clear. There was hardly any evidence that Tabitha himself had lived here, other than his name marked outside and the few discarded blankets he had left behind.  
  


Desperately searching for another sign, she yanked the sheets from the floor and shook them out, waiting for something, anything, to fall out of the folds.

   
Nothing.  
  


“Uhh…Shelly?” Matt poked his head through the door, unable to fit his hulking frame through. There was an uncharacteristic worry in his voice. “C’mere, you gotta see this…”  
  


He reached in and helped pull his fellow admin out of the house, taking her by the hand around to the back where a bloody grey hoodie lie soaking in a tub of tinted red water.  


The color drained from Shelly’s face and she collapsed to the ground to inspect the piece of clothing, disregarding the fact that it was dripping all over her. A smiling Oddish logo plastered on the front of the pullover was stained with a large splotch of crimson, trailing down, down, to the bottom of the fabric.  


Archie, who had since pulled the twin grunts to the side to dish them noogies for their rowdiness, noticed his dear friend clinging tightly to the sopping hoodie, choking back tears.  
  


Noticing the scarlet blot, the twins glanced at one another and grimaced.  
  


At the root of it all, they were responsible for everything. They had spearheaded the break-in at the Devon Corporation, they had been the ones to disobey their admin’s orders in the name of teenage rebellion, and they were the ones who had forced that portly man to take drastic measures to drive them out, which had caused one ugly, fatal domino effect.  
  


“Well, I mean…at least there ain’t a _body_ or nuthin’—“ Phil piped up, immediately regretting his decision when his admin shot him a chilling glare. She rose to her feet and stomped over to the tattooed grunt, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt to shove him hard against the brick alley wall.  
  


“I _dare_ you to say that again.” Waves of anger brewed in her sapphire eyes.  
  


“Woah woah woah, I’m just tryin’ to be positive here, Miss Shelly…! He could still be bumpin’ around out there!” Phil squirmed, watching his sister tiptoe away.  
  


“Give me one good reason not to wring you and your sister’s necks right here.”  
  


Jill froze.  
  


“Are you two even the least bit aware of all the shit that you’ve caused?!” Shelly tightened her grip around the fabric, the seams beginning to rip under strain, until she felt a heavy hand upon her shoulder.  
  


Her leader’s deep, familiar voice in her ear anchored her back down to earth.  
  


“Matt, take ‘em back home. Shelly ‘n I need some time alone.”  
  


“You got it, bro!” The burly man gave his boss a thumbs-up and hoisted the twins, one wrapped in each muscular arm, up over his shoulders like fish nets, carrying them protesting away.  
  


The two of them watched Matt disappear with his luggage out of sight.  
  


“Just you ‘n me now.” Archie slung an arm over his friend to lead her out of the alleyway and back into the empty street.  
  


Shelly silently buried her face into Archie’s chest, still clinging fast to the wet hoodie.  
  


“Aw lass…as much of a numbskull as that grunt was ‘n as many floggings as he’s gonna get, ya gotta admit that there’s some truth to his words.”  
  


He pulled her close and led her down the road toward a more familiar corner of the city.  
  


“C’mon, let’s go see an old friend.”  
  


 

 

 

 

 

They stood at the top of the stone steps, staring up at the grand wooden gate that welcomed them to the sacred grounds.  
  


“It’s been twelve years, huh?” Archie mused aloud.  
  


Shelly nodded.  
  


He whistled through his teeth, scanning the area to make absolute sure they were the only ones around before passing through the entrance. “Twelve years, and I gotta say it looks just the same as that one night, ’cept maybe it’s a bit smaller to me now that I ain’t such a wee scamp, heh.”  
  


“You think he’ll come again?” his friend asked, staring up at the starry sky peeking through the branches of the trees overhead.  
  


Archie smirked. “Nah. Not in our lifetime. We got lucky, we did. They say once every thousand years.”  


“Then how do we know he’s listening?”  
  


“Lissen, Shelly. I know yer the scientist type. You’ve always been. But, some things you just gotta put’cher trust in, y’know? We seen ‘im with our own two eyes so we know he’s out there, ‘n that’s good enough fer me."  


They approached the altar and lowered themselves to the ground, retrieving the ink-dipped paintbrushes and thin strips of paper.  
  


Both of them wrote different combinations of the same words: a wish for the protection and wellbeing of Shelly’s dear Devon friend.  
  


When they finished, they hung their wishes side-by-side on a nearby twig and bowed their heads low to utter prayers.  
  


Archie stood before his admin had fully wrapped up her request. She spoke too low for him to make out her words, but he could see the stone moistening underneath her face.  
  


Finally, she rose slowly to her feet, stumbling into her friend’s awaiting arms. They were strong. Steady. Safe.  
  


“I want to go home, Archie,” she murmured.  
  


He gave her a reassuring pat on the back and began to guide her toward the gate.  
  


Shelly glanced over his shoulder toward the stone statue of Jirachi behind them. It smiled back at her with kind eyes.  
  


_Please watch over Tabs for me.  
  
_

Little did she know that the next time they would cross paths would be as enemies.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Over the next few days, the Team Magma doctors kept a watchful eye over Tabitha, returning to his room several times a day to poke and prod and listen and test and be a general nuisance.  
  


Skitty gradually warmed up to the constant presence of the ward personnel, and they soon grew comfortable enough to give her a scratch behind the ears every time they came in to check up upon her master.  
  


Courtney, too, returned each day, sometimes for several hours on end. She sat at the end of the bed and did not speak most of the time, but Tabitha didn’t mind—he was just content to have a familiar face around to keep him company.  
  


 

 

Whenever he felt like talking, she was there to listen. He regaled her with entertaining, light-hearted stories about when he was a child, he complained about the pain he was in, he described what it had been like to work at Devon and all of the research he had done, and he told her everything he knew about the world.  
  


Sometimes, she would pose questions. They were mostly simple, inquisitive hooks such as “why did you do that?” or “what happened then?”, but the occasional philosophical thought would slip out like “what would you have done differently?”. Tabitha, taken aback, would be left to mull it over for several minutes before they engaged in a heavy, mostly one-sided intellectual discussion.  
  


Then, one afternoon, Miriam’s sheepish voice pried into one of their chats.  
  


“I apologize for interrupting, Mr. Homura, but I am pleased to report that you are showing signs of improvement.”  
  


She glanced over the stack of notes on her clipboard and strolled over to her patient’s bedside, unhooking him from the mangled mess of wires crisscrossing his midsection.  
  


“Why don’t you jumpstart your circulation and go for a little walk? Just try not to exert yourself too much and it will do you good.”  
  


“If I haven’t forgotten _how_ to walk,” he grumbled, sitting up groggily to toss his legs off the side of the bed.  
  


Suddenly, Courtney appeared in the blink of an eye, offering him her arm for support.  
  


“Come.”  
  


Tabitha recoiled. Never before had he seen her move so quickly, and it startled him. But, he cracked a grateful smile and reached over to accept her generosity.  
  


“Thanks…come along, Skitty.”  
  


Nurse Miriam observed as Tabitha stood shakily, the grunt guiding him toward the curtain with each small, cautious step until he acclimated himself to the motions and let go of her wrist, craving independence. Skitty followed close behind on silent feet.  
  


“Where are we going?” Tabitha whispered.  
  


Courtney pushed back the curtains, assuming the lead.  
  


“On a tour.”

 

 

 

 

 

The spotless halls of Team Magma’s hideout were a flurry of organized activity. People of all ages clad in the same scarlet uniform wandered the corridors, hardened expressions focused dead ahead on some unknown destination. Some members chattered on incessantly to one another in hushed tones as the two of them passed by, curious about the strange man dressed in a hospital gown and the little Skitty following obediently at his ankles. Tabitha averted his gaze, feeling wildly out of place as a white speck in a sea of red.  
  


Courtney diverted him down a quieter hallway, through an automatic door, and into a room where shelves stacked high with all types of books lined the walls. A couple of grunts sat quietly at one of the tables in the middle of the floor, flipping through the thin pages of scientific case files.  
  


“The archive,” she said.  
  


But, before Tabitha had a chance to admire the sheer amount of research material Team Magma had amassed, she tugged at the sleeve of his gown and led him back into the hall.  
  


 

They passed by a room locked with a pinpad that had several windows lining the side of the hall. Tabitha pressed his face through the glass to peer inside like a kid in a candy store, gawking at the labcoat-clad scientists typing away at a massive supercomputer with a screen that spanned almost the entire width of the room.  
  


Courtney’s voice snapped him from his trance. “Confidential…not allowed inside.”

 

 

 

 

 

After several more stops, they found themselves in a large open room filled end-to-end with beds, each one made up tidily with not a single wrinkle in the sheets.  
  


Courtney guided him over to a bed near the corner, gesturing to the briefcase and roller tucked neatly underneath the frame.  
  


“For you…”  
  


A lump formed in Tabitha’s throat--the reality of the situation began to sink in. Was she really expecting him to join her ranks once he got back on his feet? As nice and accommodating as everyone had been, he still had to remind himself that Team Magma was a _gang_ —a highly intelligent, organized gang, but a gang nonetheless!  
  


Tabitha stooped with a grimace to pick up Skitty from the floor, right before she was about to sharpen her claws on the bedframe. “I'm truly thankful for Team Magma’s hospitality, though I don’t have any intention of staying here after I recover.”  
  


  
  


The grunt was silent.  
  


“Don’t try to guilt trip me with that blank stare like you have no idea what I’m saying. As much as I appreciate the assistance, I, Tabitha, am perfectly capable of living on my own.”  
  


Always attentive to the smallest details, Courtney noticed Tabitha’s breaths growing ragged and took him by the wrist, whisking him away back toward the medical wing.

 

 

 

 

 

Three days later, Miriam came to deliver the news.  
  


 

“Congratulations, Mr. Homura. Your readings indicate that you are now healthy enough for dismissal.”  
  


She lay a folded stack of clothes on the end of his bed. Tabitha could tell from the cartoonish Torkoals peeking out that they were the pajamas he wore when he was admitted.  
  


“I was also informed that Leader Maxie would like to have a word with you. Allow me to show you to his parlor.”  
  


Miriam could see the hesitation written in her patient’s face.  
  


“Is something the matter?”  
  


Tabitha squirmed in his seat, sweat beading on his brow.  
  


“Before we head out…do you have something else I could wear? Something slightly more dignified?”

 

 

 

 

 

They navigated the twists and turns of the hideout’s halls with relatively little trouble and the best part about the journey to Tabitha was, just by putting on a grunt’s uniform, how well he had assimilated into the scene. Nobody stopped to stare at him as he and the nurse walked along, though for good measure, he had pulled the hood over his head to hide his eyes. This frightened Skitty, so he had to carry her in his arms just to reassure her that he was still the same loving master she had always known.  
  


They stopped before a great steel door, a giant ‘M’ emblazoned across its surface.  
  


“Here we are, Mr. Homura.” Miriam’s fingers flew across a pinpad on the wall and the machinery within whirred to life. She stepped back and motioned toward the door. “Whenever you are ready, you may head inside.”  
  


Tabitha turned to her with a bow. “I am grateful for your service, nurse. Truly.”  
  


“You are welcome, Mr. Homura. Please take care of yourself.” The nurse returned his gesture and wandered off, the clicking of her heels on the tiled floor echoing through the corridor.  
  


Mustering up all of his courage, Tabitha approached the door and its automatic hinges spread open, welcoming him with a long red carpet. He stepped inside and the doors closed behind him with a muffled beep.  
  


It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, the room illuminated solely by small bulbs underneath glass tiles in the floor. They bathed the room in a strange orange tint like something out of a science fiction comic book Tabitha had read so many years ago. On the other end of the room, he recognized Courtney standing in the corner and, seated behind a wide metal desk, was Team Magma Leader Maxie, resting his chin on his hands.  
  


 

 

Waiting for him.  
  


Maxie watched amused as the man set his Pokemon down on the floor and padded down the hall. He gestured to a red leather chair across from him.  
  


“Please, have a seat.”  
  


Cautiously, Tabitha lowered himself into the chair, his body molding into the frame. Memory foam. Irresistibly comfortable.  
  


Skitty strayed over to Courtney and rubbed up against her legs, begging for attention. The girl knelt down and succumbed.  
  


“I’ve been expecting you, Tabitha. I heard you are doing well?” Maxie leaned in.  
  


“Yes, it’s the most peculiar thing, sir. It’s as if nothing ever happened to me. In fact, I would say I feel even better than before I fell ill in the first place.” Tabitha sucked in a breath for emphasis, if only just to prove he could.  
  


“That is the expertise of my medical staff.”  
  


“But, I’ll admit that something has been bothering me.” Tabitha twiddled his thumbs and stared off into space.  
  


“Oh?”  
  


“I’m wondering how I will ever repay what is sure to be a significant hospital bill.”  
  


Maxie waved a hand in dismissal. “Do not fret over such trifling details, Tabitha.”  
  


“I mean, how else am I supposed to submit payment to you when I go home?”  
  


There was a long, unsettling pause before Maxie spoke again.  
  


“You do not need to worry about your expenses, because you will not be leaving.”  
  


“E-excuse me…?” Tabitha coughed, nearly falling out of his seat.  
  


Maxie’s voice was firm, resolute. “I will say it again: you will not be leaving.”  
  


“Are you saying that you’re holding me hostage?!"  
  


The leader was unfazed by Tabitha’s rising voice. If his behavior in the ward was anything to go by, this man was all bark and no bite. “What have you _really_ got to return to, Tabitha? You were found living in a derelict cardboard box unemployed on Rustboro’s streets. Here, you will have a warm bed to sleep in and your necessities taken care of.”  
  


“You are a bunch of _criminals_!”  
  


“Perhaps you do not understand.” Maxie paused to adjust his glasses, leaning in with a threatening scowl. “We fixed your lungs. Now, we want that brain of yours to fix us in return.”  
  


“Oh, _I see._ ‘An eye for an eye’, is that how you’re manipulating me?” Tabitha huffed, crossing his arms.  
  


“It is not so much retribution as it is mutual benefit,” informed the leader. “You need a roof over your head and we need your technological proficiency. You would be foolish to turn down such an offer, considering your circumstances, and you know it.”  
  


Maxie leaned back in his seat, motioning for Courtney to retrieve a touchscreen computer from a nearby countertop.  
  


“So…you think we are felons and that we will indoctrinate you in con artistry. We, Team Magma, are not felons. We are not reckless. We are not charlatans. We are not slaughterers. Those are all things that _felons_ do, and it would be a fitting description of Team Aqua, of whom we are sometimes erroneously associated with.”  
  


With deft fingers, he located a video file on his computer and turned the tablet to the man sitting across from him, showing him raw, shaky footage from the Aerodactyl attack a month prior. Citygoers screamed in the background as the winged reptile divebombed into the ground, kicking up clouds of dust and debris. Tabitha thought he could briefly make himself out among the chaos, clinging to the ancient Pokemon’s tail for dear life. Then, the video cut and Maxie slid the machine out of the way.  
  


“But, if I am not mistaken, you have already witnessed such things.”  
  


Tabitha sourly recalled Team Aqua’s raid on Devon. “That must explain why you know who I am. Practically all of Hoenn does now.”  
  


“You see, Tabitha…” Maxie steepled his hands. “We, Team Magma, are disciplined. Organized. Resourceful. We want nothing but the very best for humanity. Through research, ingenuity, and technological innovation, we wish to create a world where humans can reap all the rewards this planet has to offer, and I believe with the knowledge you have gained from being an employee at the Devon Corporation, you can assist us in our endeavors."  
  


In a humble display, the man extended his bony hand.  
  


“While you do not have much choice in the matter, I, the great Maxie, Leader of Team Magma, ask for your allegiance.”  
  


Tabitha sat there staring at the man’s outstretched hand for what felt like an eternity, swimming in a torrent of his own thoughts. While he vehemently disagreed with Team Magma’s decision to abduct him against his will, he could not deny a single thing Maxie had said. He did not have anywhere to return to, other than the home of his parents, but he did not wish such a financial burden on his hardworking folks. To move back in with them would not only be a monetary strain on everyone, but for god’s sake, he was an _adult_ now and in this day and age, to live with one’s parents carried a stigma. Team Magma not only promised him shelter, but an opportunity for growth. An opportunity to follow his passions and tinker with scientific enterprise in the name of the greater good. These were things that Devon had never guaranteed him, and it made him terribly bitter.  
  


At least, that’s what Team Magma _claimed_ to be doing—but had they really given him any reason to doubt their moral values? They had given him nothing but the highest level of hospitality this entire time.  
  


Moreover, what would happen should he reject the offer? This man clearly meant business and he could see the restraint behind the panes of his glasses. It was as if part of him was expecting him to decline and prepared to act should he do so.  
  


Finally, he made up his mind and leaned over to shake Maxie’s waiting hand, sealing his fate.  
  


The corners of his leader’s lips curled in a satisfied grin.  
  


“Excellent.”  
  


When Tabitha pulled himself away, he bit his lip in hesitation, but decided to proceed with a request that had been bugging him since the very moment he had arrived.  
  


“…on one condition.”

 

 

 

 

 

Courtney’s PokeNav, weighted down by a number of quirky cosmetic phone straps, felt cumbersome between Tabitha’s fingers. But, he had no PokeNav of his own, much less one that operated on a private wavelength. It would have to do.  
  


Those few precious seconds listening to the dialtone felt an eternity, so when a gruff voice finally came on the other end, his heart fluttered in his chest.  
  


“Tsukuru Homura, might I ask who’s calling…?”  
  


Words he had spent so long rehearsing suddenly lodged themselves in Tabitha’s throat. He gave a tentative glance to Maxie and Courtney standing expectantly beside him, then to Skitty’s reassuring face in her arms, and found the courage to speak.  
  


“Hello, Father.”  
  


Several moments of silence were exchanged between the two, until the man came on again, his voice no longer as strong and steady as it had been from the start.  
  


“Tabi…? Oh…oh, Jirachi’s answered our prayers…it’s you…!!”  
  


Tabitha could hear muffled shouts in the background, then a high-pitched wail.  


“Where the hell’ve you been?! Me, your mum, the neighbors, the police, _everyone’s_ been lookin’ for you!”  
  


He looked back to Maxie, who returned his unyielding stare.  
  


“I’m afraid that due to the nature of my circumstances, I cannot disclose my location.”  
  


His father’s voice blew up in a sudden rage so loud that he was certain Maxie and Courtney could hear—like father, like son.  
  


“Why the hell not?! Are you hurt?! Son, I’ll sic the cops on this number so fast—“  
  


“Father, don’t waste your time. They’ll never find me. All that should matter is that I’m okay and I will be okay from here on out.” Tabitha assured. “Please put me on speakerphone. It is necessary for Mother to hear this too.”  
  


A heavy sigh. Rustling. Then, he could hear the bawling of his mother’s voice.  
  


“Tabi, oh Tabi…!! Thank heavens you’re safe…!!”  
  


“Yes. Yes, thank heavens indeed.”  
  


“Why on earth didn’t you let us know what happened to you…? We called you, dozens of times…” His mother sounded as if she was choking on her tears.  
  


“There were several factors that prevented me from reaching out to you before, but what matters is, as I’ve said, I’ll be okay. I urge both of you to stop worrying over me—I’m in a safe place, I’ve got my health, and I’m working for a new company now with some promising opportunities.”  
  


He paused, debating about how to proceed.  
  


“But, I suppose one hefty downside is that…I’m afraid we won’t be speaking again for a long time.”  
  


Silence. More weeping.  
  


“Why not, son?” his father asked.  
  


Tabitha hesitated. Lying normally came so easy to him, but the only way he could ever justify hiding the truth from his parents like this was if it was for their own good.  
  


“Work demands it,” he replied, eyes darting to Maxie again. The man was pacing around impatiently—there were tasks to accomplish, and the last thing the newly-minted grunt wanted to do was irritate him.  
  


“I must go now,” he added before his parents could protest. “Please take care.”  
  


He could tell from their lack of immediate response that he was leaving them with scores of questions to be unanswered. Neither of them understood, would ever understand. But finally, his father’s voice, abnormally soft, responded.  
  


“…we love you, Tabitha.”  
  


Tears began to blur Tabitha’s vision.  
  


“I love you, too.”  
  


That was the last thing he said before he shut the PokeNav with a hard _click_ and buried his face in his hands, sniffling.  
  


Something soft stroked his cheek, dabbing away his tears. Confused, he peered through the cracks between his fingers and saw Courtney standing before him, holding a few sheets of tissue folded neatly in her free hand.  
  


“Thanks…” he sighed, returning the PokeNav back to her.  
  


“I apologize for intruding upon this tender moment, Tabitha, but we have so much to do in so little time.” Maxie flipped open a small panel on the side of his desk and pressed a yellow button, causing a segment of the wall behind him to separate, revealing an elevator shaft.  
  


“It seems you have already been supplied with a uniform, so let us go downstairs and give you your companions.”  
  


He motioned for his grunts to accompany him into the elevator. Courtney passed Skitty back to her owner and she curled up happily in his arms, purring in content.  


The moment the doors closed and the elevator began to descend, Tabitha inhaled with a sharp gasp, alerting the other two occupants.  
  


“Is something amiss?” Maxie glanced over to Tabitha, but he only shook his head and held up a finger in response. _One moment_.  
  


Courtney stared at him wide-eyed on her tiptoes, waiting for something to happen.  
  


When the doors opened and they filtered out of the elevator, Tabitha finally exhaled and addressed his confused company.  
  


“Please forgive me because this is going to sound asinine, but unless I hold my breath in an elevator as it rises or falls, my soul will fly out of my body and get left behind on the previous floor.”  
  


Both Maxie and Courtney shot him a half-lidded gaze.  
  


 

“Well, you certainly have some… _interesting_ beliefs, Tabitha.” Maxie commented, waving them off to a locked door at the end of the corridor.  
  


The man entered a complicated code into the pinpad on the wall and the door flew open, revealing a long hallway lined with shelves. And, on those shelves, were hundreds and hundreds of Pokeballs, numbered and taped off in sets of three.  
  


Maxie combed the shelves until he reached an unmarked set.  
  


“All of our recruits are issued a Poochyena, Numel, and a Koffing to begin with.”  
  


Tabitha’s face grew red. “A ‘Koffing’? Is this some kind of cruel joke?”  
  


“My, are you dramatic,” Maxie mused. “As I stated before, Koffing are standard thoroughfare.”  
  


He grabbed the three Pokeballs from the shelf and held them out proudly to his new subordinate, who turned them over and over in the palm of his hands.  
  


“Welcome to Team Magma, Tabitha Homura.”

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 Spring.  
  


The season of new beginnings.  
  


Rustboro’s schools held grand ceremonies to welcome its new students and to say goodbye to its graduates. Many companies permitted their hardworking employees a few precious days off, bosses mingling with their custodians and everyone in between underneath the shade of the cherry blossoms, whose leaves had exploded into gorgeous pastel pink flowers in the local park.  
  


Even in the dead of night, the trees looked otherworldly--their bright white blooms seemed to glow in the absence of light. Fallen petals littered the sacred grounds of Jirachi’s shrine, their short-lived beauty a constant reminder of how brief life really was.  
  


A Team Magma grunt stood in full uniform before the altar, a strangely colored Skitty perched upon his shoulder. Beside the stone statue of the wish-granting deity he set a straw basket in offering, filled to the brim with a colorful array of berries.  
  


He lowered himself in a deep, respectful bow to pray.  
  


And, like the broken petals surrounding him, his prayer was short-lived:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_“Thank you.”_

 

 

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Way, way back in November after ORAS’s release, there was not a single fanfiction about Tabitha. There were plenty about his Ruby incarnation, but his ORAS retool (which is arguably leagues better)? Not a one.
> 
>  
> 
> So, I sat down with Marina and I said to her, “Well, if there aren’t any ORAS Tabitha fics yet, I guess I’m just gonna have to make one myself.” Then, she said, “If you write a Tabitha fic, I’m going to illustrate it.”
> 
>  
> 
> That’s how an idea was born.
> 
>  
> 
> When I started writing Futatabi, I not only wanted to tell a story about characters I very much enjoyed from a game I very much enjoyed, but I also wanted to paint a picture of my everyday occurrences while living abroad in Japan, such as my visits to sacred shrines, going to izakaya pubs with friends, and riding the trains at rush hour (known as 通勤地獄, quite literally “commuter’s hell”). Those times were some of the best in my life to-date and many of those experiences inspired the scenery I wished to create. Hoenn itself is based in Japan. I constructed Rustboro as a sort of collage of different areas that I visited—mainly Shinjuku, where I spent a lot of my time. At the time of this writing, I’m in the midst of preparing for a job interview that would take me back across the sea, back to this home away from home of mine.
> 
>  
> 
> I guess the big question now is: what’s next? With my final semester of college, I’m afraid I can’t work on anything this major again for a while, but Marina and I have agreed to do some one-shot weekends once in a while with some content that didn’t quite make it into Futatabi, among other things. For instance, here are some things we are planning to do:
> 
>  
> 
> ~Directly after the events of Futatabi, Tabitha training as a grunt and his (and Courtney’s) promotions to admins  
> ~Tabitha’s first encounter with Shelly since he joined Team Magma  
> ~Devon Co. shenanigans  
> ~Team Magma/Team Aqua karaoke night  
> ~How Tabitha got Skitty  
> ~Snapshots of Tabitha’s family life  
> ~Lastly, the next big project will be about Tabitha and Courtney taking over Maxie’s position after he has mysteriously disappeared and their search to discover what happened to him. We’re beginning the planning phase of this one right now and would like to potentially begin releasing it closer to summer.
> 
>  
> 
> My ask box on Tumblr is always open for questions you may have about Futatabi, writing in general, and even suggestions for future works—is there something Magma/Aqua-related you’d like to see? [note: it’d be difficult for me to do straight up shipfics considering I like pretty much every single admin/leader pairing, so I’d prefer not to write one at this time]
> 
>  
> 
> We sincerely thank everyone for sticking with us on this long ride. The amount of support has been absolutely incredible, and we cannot tell you how much we have enjoyed reading your commentary in tags on Tumblr, on Skype, and on AO3 itself.
> 
>  
> 
> Cheers,
> 
>  


End file.
